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PROSPECTUS

0/

HERBERT SPENCER'S SYSTEM OF PHILOSOPHY

ON THE BASIS OF

THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION.
(Published in March, 1860.)

Mr. Herbert Spencer proposes to issue, in periodical part?, a
connected series of works which he has for several years been pre-
paring. Some conception of the general aim and scope of this
series may be gathered from the following Programme.

FIRST PRINCIPLES.

Part I. Thk Unknowable. —Carrying a step further the doctrine put
into shape by Hamilton and Mangel ; pointing out the various directions in
which Science leads to the same conclusions ; and showing that in this united
belief in an Absolute that transcends not only human knowledge but human
conception, lies the only possible reconciliation of Science and Religion.

II. Laws or thb Knowable.— A statement of the ultimate principles
discernible throughout all manifestations of the Absolute — those highest gen-
eralizations now being disclosed by Science, which are severally true not of
one class of phenomena, but of all classes of phenomena ; and which are thus
the keys to all classes of phenomena.*

[In logical order should here come the application of these First Principles
to Inorganic Nature. But this great division it is proposed to pass over :
partlu because, even without it, the scheme is too extensive ; and partly be-
cause the interpretation of Organic Nature, after the proposed method, is of
more immediate importance. The second work of the series will, therefore,
be.]

* One of these generalizations is that currently known as " the conserve
Jon of force;" a second may be gathered from a published essay on "Pro
Kress : its Law and Cause:" a third is Indicated in a paper on "Transcen
dental Physiology ;" and there are several others.

1 A

THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.

VOL. I.

Part I. The Data or Biology.— Including those general truth* of
Physics and Chemistry with which rational Biology must set out.

IL The Inductions op Biology.— A statement of the leading general-
izations which Naturalists, Physiologists, and Comparative Anatomists, have
established.

III. The Evolution of Life. — Concerning the speculation commonly
known as " The Development Hypothesis" — its a priori and a posteriori evi-
dences.

VOL. II.

IV. Morphological Development.— Pointing out the relations that are
everywhere traceable between organic forms and the average of the various
forces to which they are subject ; and seeking in the cumulative effects of
such forces a theory of the forms.

V. Physiological Development. — The progressive differentiation of
functions similarly traced ; and similarly interpreted as consequent upon the
exposure of different parts of organisms to different sets of conditions.

VI. The Laws of Multiplication. — Generalizations respecting the rates
of reproduction of the various classes of plants and animals ; followed by an
attempt to show the dependence of these variations upon certain necessary
causes.*

THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY.

VOL. I.

Part I. The Data of Psychology.— Treating of the general conneo.
lions of Mind and Life, and their relations to other modes of the Unknowable.

II. The Inductions of Psychology. — A digest of such generalizations
respecting mental phenomena as have already been empirically established.

III. General Synthesis. — A republication, with additional chapters,
of the same part in the already-published Principles of Psychology.

IV. Special Synthesis.— A republication, with extensive revisions and
additions, of the same part, &c, fee.

V. Physical Synthesis.— An attempt to show the manner in which the

* The ideas to be developed in this second volume of the Principles of Bi-
ology the writer has already briefly expressed in sundry Review Articles.
Part IV. will work out a doctrine suggested In a paper on " The Laws of Or-
ganic Form," published in the Medico-Chirurgical Review for January, 1859.
The germ of Part V. is contained in the essay on "Transcendental Physiolo-
gy." See Essays, pp. 280-90. And in Part VI. will be unfolded certain
views crudely expressed in a " Theory of Population," published in tho
Westminster Review of April, 1852.

EVOLUTION PHILOSOPHY. Ill

succession of states of consciousness conforms to a certain fundamental law
of nervous action that follows from the First Principles laid down at the
outset.

VOL. II.

VI. Special Analysis.— As at present published, but further elaborated
by some additional chapters.

VII. General Analysis.— As at present published, with several ex-
planations and additions.

VIII. Corollaries.— Consisting in part of a number of derivative prin-
ciples which form a necessary introduction to Sociology.*

THE PEINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.

VOL. I.

Pari I. The Data of Sociology. — A statement of the several sets of
factors entering into social phenomena— human ideas and feelings con-
sidered in their necessary order of evolution ; surrounding natural con-
ditions ; and those ever-complicating conditions to which Society itself gives
origin.

II. Th« Inductions of Sociology.— General facts, structural and
functional, as gathered from a survey of Societies and their changes ; in
other words, the empirical generalizations that are arrived at by comparing
different societies and successive phases of the same society.

III. Political Organization.— The evolution of governments, general
and local, as determined by natural causes ; their several types and meta-
morphoses ; their Increasing complexity and specialization ; and the pro-
gressive limitation of their functions.

VOL. II.

IV. Ecclesiastical Organization.— Tracing the differentiation of re-
ligious government from secular ; its successive complications and the mul-
tiplication of sects ; the growth and continued modification of religious ideas,
as caused by advancing knowledge and changing moral character; and the
gradual reconciliation of these ideas with the truths of abstract science.

V. Ceremonial Organization.— Tho natural history of that third kind
of government which, having a common root with the others, and slowly be-
coming separate from and supplementary to them, serves to regulate tho
minor actions of life.

VI. Industrial Organization. — The development of productive and
distributive agencies, considered, like the foregoing, In Its necessary causes .-

* Respecting the several additions to be made to the Principles of Pay.
chuloey, it seems needful only to say that Part V. is the unwritten division
named in the preface to that work — a division of which the germ is contained
in a note on page 644. and of which the scope has since been more definitely
Stated in a paper in the Medico- Chirurgical Review for January, 1869.

IV PKOSPECTUS OF SPENCER'S

comprehending not only Uie progressive division of labor, and the increasing
complexity of each industrial agency, but also the successive forms of indus-
trial government as passing through like phases with political government.

vol. in.

VII. Lingual Progress.— The evolution of Languages regarded ai a
psychological process determined by social conditions.

VIII. Intellectual Progress.— Treated from the same point of view.
Including the growth of classifications ; the evolution of science out of com-
mon knowledge ; the advance from qualitative to quantitative prevision,
from the indefinite to the definite, and from the concrete to the abstract.

IX. ^Esthetic Progress.— The Fine Arts similarly dealt with : tracing
their gradual differentiation from primitive institutions and from each other;
their increasing varieties of development ; and their advance in reality of
expression and superiority of aim.

X. Moral Progress.— Exhibiting the genesis of the slow emotional
modifications which human nature undergoes in its adaptation to the social
state.

XI. The Consensus.— Treating of the necessary interdependence of
structures and of functions in each type of society, and in the successive
phases of social development.*

THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.

VOL. I.

Part I. The Data op Morality.— Generalizations furnished by
Biology, Psychology, and Sociology, which underlie a true theory of right
living : in other words, the elements of that equilibrium between constitution
and conditions of existence, which is at once the moral ideal and the limit
towards which we are progressing.

II. The Inductions of Morality.— Those empirically established rules
of human action which are registered as essential laws by all civilized nations :
that is to say — the generalizations of expediency.

III. Personal Morals.— The principles of private conduct — physical,
intellectual, moral, and religious — that follow from the conditions to complete
individual life : or, what is the same thing, those modes of private action

* Of this treatise on Sociology, a few small fragments may be found in
already-publishsd essays. Some of the ideas to be developed in Part II. are
indicated in an article on " The Social Organism," contained in the last num-
ber of the Westminster Review; those which Part V. will work out, may ba
gathered from the first half of a paper written some years since on " Manners
and Fashion : " of Part VIII. the germs are contained in an article on the
"Genesis of Science," two papers on "The Origin and Function of Music,"
and "The Philosophy of Style," contain some ideas to be embodied in Part
IX., and from a criticism of Mr. Bain's work on "The Emotions and tho
Will," in the last number of the Medieo-Chirurgical Review, the central ide»
lo be developed in Part X. may be inferred.

EVOLUTION PHILOSOPHY. V

which muBt result from the eventual equilibration of internal desires and ex-
ternal needs.

VOL. II.

rv. Jcstice. — The mutual limitations of men's actions necessitated by
their co-existence as units of a society — limitations, the perfect observance
of which constitutes that state of equilibrium forming the goal of political
progress.

V. Negative Beneficence.— Those secondary limitations, similarly ne-
cessitated, which, though less important and not cognizable by law, are yet
requisite to prevent mutual destruction of happiness in various indirect ways :
in other words — those minor self-restraints dictated by what may be called
passive sympathy.

VI. Positive Beneficence.— Comprehending all modes of conduct, dic-
tated by active sympathy, which imply pleasure in giving pleasure — modes
of conduct that social adaptation has induced and must render ever more
general ; and which, in becoming universal, must fill to the full the possible
measure of human happiness.*

[The foregoing Prospectus of Spencer's Evolution Philosophy is inserted here
as a record of priority in the elucidation of this extensive subject. Mr. Spencer
began the study of "Progress" and "Development" in his youth, and pub-
lished upon the political application of the doctrine at the age of twenty-two.
After this, he pursued the subject vigorously, systematically, and independently,
for many years working out and extending its principles and applications, until,
in 18M, he arrived at the conception of evolution as a universal process of Na-
ture. Many suppose that Darwin was the first in this modern field of inquiry,
and that Spencer is largely indebted to him for his ideas. But Mr. Speneer had
mastered the whole subject and reduced it to method, had worked out the gen-
eral principles of the Evolution theory and their application to Biology. Psychol-
ogy, Sociology, and Morality — in fact, had wrought its principles into a compre-
hensive philosophical system — before Mr. Darwin bad ever published a word in
relation to it Spencer's programme of the Evolution Philosophy, in ten volumes
in logical order, giving their detailed contents under thirty-three consecutive
heads, as shown above, was printed in London, in March, 1860, but was drawn
up in its present form the preceding year, before the "Origin of Species" ap-
peared. The writer has seen a still earlier manuscript form of this Prospectus,
embracing seven volumes instead often, but laying out the same subjects in the
same order, and by the same method that was written out, and became a matter
of private correspondence in 1S58. Mr. Speneer, moreover, applied the doctrine
of evolution to the science of mind twenty-five years ago, in his remarkable work
entitled " The Principles of Psychology," published in 1856 ; and it is shown by
the notes to the Prospectus that be had publicly contributed much to the devel-
opment of the subject years before this outline of it appeared.

January 2, 1880. E. L. T.]

* Part IV. of the Principle* of Morality will be coextensive (though not
Identical) with the first half of the writer's Social Static*.

SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.

(1.) FIRST PRINCIPLES $2.00

I. The Unknowable. II. Laws of the Knowable.

(2.) THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY. Vol. I $2.00

I. The Data of Biology. II. The Inductions of Biology.

IU. The Evolution of Life.

(3.) THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY. Vol. II $2.00

IV. Morphological Development. V. Physiological Development.
VI. Laws of Multiplication.
(4.) THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. I. . . . $2.00
I. The Data of Psychology. HI. General Synthesis.

H. The Inductions of Psychology. IV. Special Synthesis.
V. Physical Synthesis.
(5.) THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY. Vol. H. . . $2.00
VI. Special Analysis. VHI. Congruities.

VII. General Analysis. IX. Corollaries.

(6.) THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. Vol. I. $2.00

I. The Data of Sociology. II. The Indnctions of Sociology.

HI. The Domestic Relations.
(7.) THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. Vol. II. . . . $2.00
IV. Ceremonial Institutions. V. Political Institutions.

VI. Ecclesiastical Institutions.

(8.) THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY. Vol. m. .
* * * *

(9.) THE PRINCIPLES OF ETHICS. Vol. I $2.00

I. The Data of Ethics. II. The Inductions of Ethics.

III. The Ethics of Individual Life.

(10.) THE PRINCIPLES OF ETHICS. Vol. n $2.00

IV. The Ethics of Social Life : Justice.
V. The Ethics of Social Life : Negative Beneficence.
VI. The Ethics of Social Life : Positive Beneficence.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, New York.

EDUCATION :

INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL.

BY

HERBERT SPENCER,

AUTHOR Or "A SYSTEM OF SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.

NEW YORK:

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

72 FIFTH AVENUE.

1895.

iCnleral according to Act of Congress In the year 1860,

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

In the CU>ikV> Office of the District Court of the United State? for the Southern

District of New-York.

£<75 ^ BARBARA

PREFACE.

The four chapters of which this work con-
sists, originally appeared as four Review articles :
the first in the Westminster Review, the second
in the North British Review, and the remaining
two in the British Quarterly Review. Severally
treating different divisions of the subject, but
together forming a tolerably complete whole, I
originally wrote them with a view to their repub-
lication in a united form ; and they would some
time since have thus appeared in England, had
not the proprietor of the North British Review
refused to let me include the one contributed to
that periodical. This interdict is, however, of no
effect in the United States ; and some transatlan-

PREFACE.

tic friends having represented to me that an

American re-issue was desirable, I have revised

the articles, and placed them in the hands of

Messrs. D. Appleton & Co.

H. S.

London, July, I860.

CONTENTS

I. WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH? . 21

II. INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION, . . .97

III. MORAL EDUCATION, . . . .161

IV. PHYSICAL EDUCATION, . . . .219

EDUCATION.

CHAPTER I.

WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?

It has been truly remarked that, in order of
time, decoration precedes dress. Among people
who submit to great physical suffering that they
may have themselves handsomely tattooed, ex-
tremes of temperature are borne with but little
attempt at mitigation. Humboldt tells us that an
Orinoco Indian, though quite regardless of bodily
comfort, will yet labour for a fortnight to purchase
pigment wherewith to make himself admired ; and
that the same woman who would not hesitate to
leave her hut without a fragment of clothing on,
would not dare to commit such a breach of decorum
as to go out unpainted. Yoyagers uniformly find
that coloured beads and trinkets are much more
prized by wild tribes than are calicoes or broad-
cloths. And the anecdotes we have of the ways in
which, when shirts and coats are given, they turn

22 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

them to some ludicrous display, show how com-
pletely the idea of ornament predominates over
that of use. Nay, there are still more extreme il-
lustrations : witness the fact narrated by Capt.
Speke of his African attendants, who strutted about
in their goat-skin mantles when the weather was
fine, but when it was wet, took them off, folded
them up, and went about naked, shivering in the
rain ! Indeed, the facts of aboriginal life seem to
indicate that dress is developed out of decorations.
And when we remember that even among our-
selves most think more about the fineness of the
fabric than its warmth, and more about the cut
than the convenience — when we see that the func-
tion is still in great measure subordinated to the
appearance — we have further reason for inferring
such an origin.

It is not a little curious that the like relations
hold with the mind. Among mental as among
bodily acquisitions, the ornamental comes before
the useful. Not only in times past, but almost as
much in our own era, that knowledge which con-
duces to personal well-being has been postponed to
that which brings applause. In the Greek schools,
music, poetry, rhetoric, and a philosophy which,
until Socrates taught, had but little bearing upon
action, were the dominant subjects ; while knowl-
edge aiding the arts of life had a very subordinate
place. And in our own universities and schools at
the present moment the like antithesis holds. We
are guilty of something like a platitude when we

THE ORNAMENTAL PRECEDES THE USEFUL. 23

say that throughout his after-career a boy, in nine
cases out of ten, applies his Latin and Greek to no
practical purposes. The remark is trite that in his
shop, or his office, in managing his estate or his fam-
ily, in playing his part as director of a bank or a rail-
way, he is very little aided by this knowledge he took
so many years to acquire — so little, that gener-
ally the greater part of it drops out of his mem-
ory ; and if he occasionally vents a Latin quotation,
or alludes to some Greek myth, it is less to throw
light on the topic in hand than for the sake of ef-
fect. If we inquire what is the real motive for giv-
ing boys a classical education, we find it to be sim-
ply conformity to public opinion. Men dress their
children's minds as they do their bodies, in the pre-
vailing fashion. As the Orinoco Indian puts on his
paint before leaving his hut, not with a view to any
direct benefit, but because he would be ashamed to
be seen without it ; so, a boy's drilling in Latin and
Greek is insisted on, not because of their intrinsic
value, but that he may not be disgraced by being
found ignorant of them — that he may have " the
education of a gentleman " — the badge marking a
certain social position, and bringing a consequent
respect.

This parallel is still more clearly displayed in
the case of the other sex. In the treatment of both
mind and body, the decorative element has con-
tinued to predominate in a greater degree among
women than among men. Originally, personal
adornment occupied the attention of both sexes

24 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF M08T WORTH ?

equally. In these latter days of civilization, how-
ever, we see that in the dress of men the regard for
appearance has in a considerable degree yielded to
the regard for comfort ; while in their education
the useful has of late been trenching on the orna-
mental. In neither direction has this change gone
so far with women. The wearing of ear-rings, fin-
ger-rings, bracelets ; the elaborate dressings of the
hair ; the still occasional use of paint ; the immense
labour bestowed in making habiliments sufficiently
attractive ; and the great discomfort that will be
submitted to for the sake of conformity ; show how
greatly, in the attiring of women, the desire of ap-
probation overrides the desire for warmth and con-
venience. And similarly in their education, the
immense preponderance of " accomplishments "
proves how here, too, use is subordinated to dis-
play. Dancing, deportment, the piano, singing,
drawing — what a large space do these occupy ! If
you ask why Italian and German are learnt, you
will find that, under all the sham reasons given, the
real reason is, that a knowledge of those tongues is
thought ladylike. It is not that the books written
in them may be utilized, which they scarcely ever
are ; but that Italian and German songs may be
sung, and that the extent of attainment may bring
whispered admiration. The births, deaths, and
marriages of kings, and other like historic trivial-
ities, are committed to memory, not because of any
direct benefits that can possibly result from know-
ing them ; but because society considers them parts

WHY THE SHOWY PBEDOMINATES. 25

of a good education — because the absence of such,
knowledge may bring the contempt of others.
When we have named reading, writing, spelling,
grammar, arithmetic, and sewing, we have named
about all the things a girl is taught with a view to
their direct uses in life ; and even some of these
have more reference to the good opinion of others
than to immediate personal welfare.

Thoroughly to realize the truth that with the
mind as with the body the ornamental precedes the
useful, it is needful to glance at its rationale. This
lies in the fact that, from the far past down even to
the present, social needs have subordinated individ-
ual needs, and that the chief social need has been
the control of individuals. It is not, as we com-
monly suppose, that there are no governments but
those of monarchs, and parliaments, and constituted
authorities. These acknowledged governments are
supplemented by other unacknowledged ones, that
grow up in all circles, in which every man or wo-
man strives to be king or queen or lesser dignitary.
To get above some and be reverenced by them, and
to propitiate those who are above us, is the univer-
sal struggle in which the chief energies of life are
expended. By the accumulation of wealth, by
style of living, by beauty of dress, by display of
knowledge or intellect, each tries to subjugate
others ; and so aids in weaving that ramified net-
work of restraints by which society is kept in order.
It is not the savage chief only, who, in formidable
War-paint, with scalps at his belt, aims to strike

26 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH?

awe into his inferiors ; it is not only the belle who,
by elaborate toilet, polished manners, and numer-
ous accomplishments, strives to " make conquests ; "
but the scholar, the historian, the philosopher, use
their acquirements to the same end. We are none
of us content with quietly unfolding our own indi-
vidualities to the full in all directions ; but have a
restless craving to impress our individualities upon
others, and in some way subordinate them. And
this it is which determines the character of our ed-
ucation. Not what knowledge is of most real worth,
is the consideration ; but what will bring most ap-
plause, honour, respect — what will most conduce to
social position and influence — what will be most
imposing. As, throughout life, not what we are,
but what we shall be thought, is the question ; so
in education, the question is, not the intrinsic value
of knowledge, so much as its extrinsic effects on
others. And this being our dominant idea, direct
utility is scarcely more regarded than by the bar-
barian when filing his teeth and staining his nails.

If there needs any further evidence of the rude,
undeveloped character of our education, we have it
in the fact that the comparative worths of different
kinds of knowledge have been as yet scarcely even
discussed — much less discussed in a methodic way
with definite results. Not only is it that no stand-
ard of relative values has yet been agreed upon ;
but the existence of any such standard has not
been conceived in any clear manner. And not

RELATIVE VALUES OF KNOWLEDGE. 27

only is it that the existence of any such standard
has not been clearly conceived ; but the need for it
seems to have been scarcely even felt. Men read
books on this topic, and attend lectures on that;
decide that their children shall be instructed in
these branches of knowledge, and shall not be in-
structed in those ; and all under the guidance of
mere custom, or liking, or prejudice ; without ever
considering the enormous importance of determin-
ing in some rational way what things are really
most worth learning. It is true that in all circles
we have occasional remarks on the importance of
this or the other order of information. But whether
the degree of its importance justifies the expendi-
ture of the time needed to acquire it ; and whether
there are not things of more importance to which
the time might be better devoted ; are queries
which, if raised at all, are disposed of quite sum-
marily, according to personal predilections. It is
true also, that from time to time, we hear revived
the standing controversy respecting the comparative
merits of classics and mathematics. Not only, how-
ever, is this controversy carried on in an empirical
manner, with no reference to an ascertained crite-
rion ; but the question at issue is totally insignifi-
cant when compared with the general question of
which it is part. To suppose that deciding wheth-
er a mathematical or a classical education is the
best, is deciding what is the proper curriculum, is
much the same thing as to suppose that the whole

28 WnAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

of dietetics lies in determining whether or not bread
is more nutritive than potatoes !

The question which we contend is of such tran-
scendent moment, is, not whether such or such
knowledge is of worth, but what is its relative
worth ? When they have named certain advan-
tages which a given course of study has secured
them, persons are apt to assume that they have jus-
tified themselves : quite forgetting that the ade-
quateness of the advantages is the point to be
judged. There is, perhaps, not a subject to which
men devote attention that has not some value. A
year diligently spent in getting up heraldry, would
very possibly give a little further insight into an-
cient manners and morals, and into the origin of
names. Any one who should learn the distances
between all the towns in England, might, in the
course of his life, find one or two of the thousand
facts he had acquired of some slight service when
arranging a journey. Gathering together all the
small gossip of a county, profitless occupation as it
would be, might yet occasionally help to establish
some useful fact — say, a good example of hereditary
transmission. But in these cases, every one would
admit that there was no proportion between the re-
quired labour and the probable benefit. No one
would tolerate the proposal to devote some years
of a boy's time to getting such information, at the
cost of much more valuable information which he
might else have got. And if here the test of rela-
tive value is appealed to and held conclusive, then

TIME OF ACQUISITION LIMITED. 29

should it be appealed to and held conclusive
throughout. Had we time to master all subjects
we need not be particular. To quote the old song : — *

Could a man be secure

That his days would endure

As of old, for a thousand long years,

What things might he know I

What deeds might he do !

And all without hurry or care.

" But we that have but span-long lives " must ever
bear in mind our limited time for acquisition. Ajid
remembering how narrowly this time is limited, not
only by the shortness of life, but also still more by
the business of life, we ought to be especially solic-
itous to employ what time we have to the greatest
advantage. Before devoting years to some subject
which fashion or fancy suggests, it is surely wise to
weigh with great care the worth of the results, as
compared with the worth of various alternative re-
sults which the same years might bring if otherwise
applied.

In education, then, this is the question of ques-
tions, which it is high time we discussed in some
methodic way. The first in importance, though the
last to be considered, is the problem — how to decide
among the conflicting claims of various subjects on
our attention. Before there can be a rational cur*
riculum, we must settle which things it most con-
cerns us to know ; or, to use a word of Bacon's,
now unfortunately obsolete — we must determine
the relative values of knowledges.

p*~,y^°?

30 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

To this end, a measure of value is the first re-
quisite. And happily, respecting the true measure
of value, as expressed in general terms, there can
be no dispute. Every one in contending for the
worth of any particular order of information, does
so by showing its bearing upon some part of life.
In reply to the question, " Of what use is it ? " the
mathematician, linguist, naturalist, or philosopher,
explains the way in which his learning beneficially
influences action — saves from evil or secures good —
conduces to happiness. When the teacher of writ-
ing has pointed out how great an aid writing is to
success in business — that is, to the obtainment of
sustenance — that is, to satisfactory living ; he is
held to have proved his case. And when the col-
lector of dead facts (say a numismatist) fails to make
clear any appreciable effects which these facts can
produce on human welfare, he is obliged to admit
that they are comparatively valueless. All then,
either directly or by implication, appeal to this as
the ultimate test.

How to live ? — that is the essential question for
us. Not how to live in the mere material sense
only, but in the widest sense. The general problem
which comprehends every special problem is — the
right ruling of conduct in all directions under all
circumstances. In what way to treat the body ; in
what way to treat the mind ; in what way to man-
age our affairs ; in what way to bring up a family ;
in what way to behave as a citizen ; in what way
to utilize all those sources of happiness which nature

THE GKEAT AIM OF EDUCATION. 31

supplies — how to use all our faculties to the great-
est advantage of ourselves and others — how to live
completely ? And this being the great thing needful
for us to learn, is, by consequence, the great thing
which education has to teach. To prepare us for
complete living is the function which education has
to discharge ; and the only rational mode of judg-
ing of any educational course is, to judge in what
degree it discharges such function.

This test, never used in its entirety, but rarely
even partially used, and used then in a vague, half
conscious way, has to be applied consciously, me-
thodically, and throughout all cases. It behoves us
to set before ourselves, and ever to keep clearly in
view, complete living as the end to be achieved ; so
that in bringing up our children we may choose
subjects and methods of instruction, with deliberate
reference to this end. Not only ought we to cease
from the mere unthinking adoption of the current
fashion in education, which has no better warrant
than any other fashion ; but we must also rise above
that rude, empirical style of judging displayed by
those more intelligent people who do bestow some
care in overseeing the cultivation of their children's
minds. It must not suffice simply to think that
such or such information will be useful in after life,
or that this kind of knowledge is of more practical
value than that ; but we must seek out some process
of estimating their respective values, so that as far
as possible we may positively know which are most
deserving of attention.
2

82 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

Doubtless the task is difficult — perhaps never
to be more than approximately achieved. But,
considering the vastness of the interests at stake,
its difficulty is no reason for pusillanimously pass-
ing it by ; but rather for devoting every energy to
its mastery. And if we only proceed systematic-
ally, we may very soon get at results of no small
moment.

Our first step must obviously be to classify, in
the order of their importance, the leading kinds of
activ'-ty which constitute human life. They may
be naturally arranged into: — 1. Those activities
which directly minister to self-preservation ; 2.
Those activities which, by securing the necessaries
of life, indirectly minister to self-preservation ; 3.
Those activities which have for their end the rear-
ing and discipline of offspring ; 4. Those activities
which are involved in the maintenance of proper
social and political relations ; 5. Those miscella-
neous activities which make up the leisure part of
life, devoted to the gratification of the tastes and
feelings.

That these stand in something like their true
order of subordination, it needs no long considera-
tion to show. The actions and precautions by
which, from moment to moment, we secure personal
safety, must clearly take precedence of all others.
Could there be a man, ignorant as an infant of all
surrounding objects and movements, or how to
guide himself among them, he would pretty cer-
tainly lose his life the first time he went into thp

CLASSIFICATION OF OUK ACTIVITIES. 33

street : notwithstanding any amount of learning he
might have on other matters. And as entire igno-
rance in all other directions would be less promptly
fatal than entire ignorance in this direction, it must
be admitted that knowledge immediately conducive
to self-preservation is of primary importance.

That next after direct self-preservation comes
the indirect self-preservation which consists in ac-
quiring the means of living, none will question.
That a man's industrial functions must be con-
sidered before his parental ones, is manifest from
the fact that, speaking generally, the discharge of
the parental functions is made possible only by the
previous discharge of the industrial ones. The pow-
er of self-maintenance necessarily preceding the
power of maintaining offspring, it follows that
knowledge needful for self-maintenance has stronger
claims than knowledge needful for family welfare
— is second in value to none save knowledge need-
ful for immediate self-preservation.

As the family comes before the State in order of
time — as the bringing up of children is possible be-
fore the State exists, or when it has ceased to be,
whereas the State is rendered possible only by the
bringing up of children ; it follows that the duties
of the parent demand closer attention than those of
the citizen. Or, to use a further argument — since
the goodness of a society ultimately depends on the
nature of its citizens ; and since the nature of its cit-
izens is more modifiable by early training than by
anything else ; we must conclude that the welfare

34: WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

of the family underlies the welfare of society. And
hence knowledge directly conducing to the first,
must take precedence of knowledge directly con-
ducing to the last.

Those various forms of pleasurable occupation
which fill up the leisure left by graver occupations
— the enjoyments of music, poetry, painting, &c. —
manifestly imply a pre-existing society. Not only
is a considerable development of them impossible
without a long-established social union ; but their
very subject-matter consists in great part of social
sentiments and sympathies. Not only does society
supply the conditions to their growth ; but also the
ideas and sentiments they express. And, conse-
quently, that part of human conduct which consti-
tutes good citizenship is of more moment than that
which goes out in accomplishments or exercise of
the tastes ; and, in education, preparation for the
one must rank before preparation for the other.

Such then, we repeat, is something like the ra-
tional order of subordination : — That education
which prepares for direct self-preservation ; that
which prepares for indirect self-preservation ; that
which prepares for parenthood ; that which prepares
for citizenship ; that which prepares for the miscel-
laneous refinements of life. We do not mean to
say that these divisions are definitely separable.
We do not deny that they are intricately entangled
with each other in such way that there can be no
training for any that is not in some measure a train-
ing for all. Nor do we question that of each di'

ORDER OF SUBORDINATION OF SUBJECTS. 35

vision there are portions more important than cer-
tain portions of the preceding divisions : that, for in-
stance, a man of much skill in business but little
other faculty, may fall further below the standard
of complete living than one of but moderate power
of acquiring money but great judgment as a pa-
rent ; or that exhaustive information bearing on
right social action, joined with entire want of gen-
eral culture in literature and the fine arts, is less
desirable than a more moderate share of the one
joined with some of the other. But, after making
all qualifications, there still remain these broadly-
marked divisions ; and it still continues substan-
tially true that these divisions subordinate one an-
other in the foregoing order, because the corre-
sponding divisions of life make one another possible
in that order.

Of course the ideal of education is — complete
preparation in all these divisions. But failing this
ideal, as in our phase of civilization every one must
do more or less, the aim should be to maintain a
due proportion between the degrees of preparation
in each. Not exhaustive cultivation in any one, su-
premely important though it may be — not even an
exclusive attention to the two, three, or four divis-
ions of greatest importance ; but an attention to
all, — greatest where the value is greatest, less where
the value is less, least where the value is least. For
the average man (not to forget the cases in which
peculiar aptitude for some one department of knowl-
edge rightly makes that one the bread- winning oc-

86 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

cupation) — for the average man, we say, the desid-
eratum is, a training that approaches nearest to
perfection in the things which most subserve com-
plete living, and falls more and more below perfec-
tion in the things that have more and more remote
bearings on complete living.

In regulating education by this standard, there
are some general considerations that should be ever
present to us. The worth of any kind of culture,
as aiding complete living, may be either necessary
or more or less contingent. There is knowledge of
intrinsic value ; knowledge of quasi-intrinsic value ;
and knowledge of conventional value. Such facts
as that sensations of numbness and tingling com-
monly precede paralysis, that the resistance of water
to a body moving through it varies as the square
of the velocity, that chlorine is a disinfectant, — these,
and the truths of Science in general, are of intrinsic
value : they will bear on human conduct ten thou-
sand years hence as they do now. The extra knowl-
edge of our own language, which is given by an ac-
quaintance with Latin and Greek, may be consid-
ered to have a value that is quasi-intrinsic : it must
exist for us and for other races whose languages owe
much to these sources ; but will last only as long as
our languages last. While that kind of information
which, in our schools, usurps the name History
— the mere tissue of names and dates and dead un-
meaning events — has a conventional value only : it
has not the remotest bearing upon any of our ac-
tions ; and is of use only for the avoidance of those

INTBINSIC AND CONVENTIONAL VALUES. 37

unpleasant criticisms which current opinion passes
upon its absence. Of course, as those facts which
concern all mankind throughout all time must be
held of greater moment than those which concern
only a portion of them during a limited era, and of
far greater moment than those which concern only a
portion of them during the continuance of a fashion ;
it follows that in a rational estimate, knowledge of
intrinsic worth must, other things equal, take pre-
cedence of knowledge that is of quasi-intrinsic or
conventional worth.

One further preliminary. Acquirement of eveiy
kind has two values — value as knowledge and value
as discipline. Besides its use for guidance in con-
duct, the acquisition of each order of facts has also
its use as mental exercise ; and its effects as a pre-
parative for complete living have to be considered
under both these heads.

These, then, are the general ideas with which we
must set out in discussing a curriculum : — Life as
divided into several kinds of activity of successively
decreasing importance ; the worth of each order of
facts as regulating these several kinds of activity,
intrinsically, quasi-intrinsically, and conventionally ;
and their regulative influences estimated both as
knowledge and discipline.

Happily, that all-important part of education
which goes to secure direct self-preservation, is in
great part already provided for. Too momentous to
be left to our blundering, Nature takes it into her

S8 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WOBTH ?

own hands. While yet in its nurse's arms, the infant,
by hiding its face and crying at the sight of a stran-
ger, shows the dawning instinct to attain safety by
flying from that which is unknown and may be
dangerous ; and when it can walk, the terror it
manifests if an unfamiliar dog comes near, or the
screams with which it runs to its mother after any
startling sight or sound, shows this instinct further
developed. Moreover, knowledge subserving direct
self-preservation is that which it is chiefly busied
in acquiring from hour to hour. How to balance
its body ; how to control its movements so as to
avoid collisions ; what objects are hard, and will
hurt if struck ; what objects are heavy, and injure
if they fall on the limbs ; which things will bear
the weight of the body, and which not ; the pains
inflicted by fire, by missiles, by sharp instruments
— these, and various other pieces of information
needful for the avoidance of death or accident, it is
ever learning. And when, a few years later, the
energies go out in running, climbing, and jumping,
in games of strength and games of skill, we see in
all these' actions by which the muscles are devel-
oped, the perceptions sharpened, and the judgment
quickened, a preparation for the safe conduct of the
body among surrounding objects and movements ;
and for meeting those greater dangers that occa-
sionally occur in the lives of all. Being thus, as
we say, so well cared for by Nature, this funda-
mental education needs comparatively little care
from us. What we are chiefly called upon to see,

EDUCATION FOR SELF-PRESERVATION. 39

is, that there shall be free scope for gaining this ex-
perience, and receiving this discipline, — that there
shall be no such thwarting of Nature as that by
which stupid schoolmistresses commonly prevent
the girls in their charge from the spontaneous phys-
ical activities they would indulge in ; and so ren-
der them comparatively incapable of taking care of
themselves in circumstances of peril.

This, however, is by no means all that is com-
prehended in the education that prepares for direct
self-preservation. Besides guarding the body
against mechanical damage or destruction, it has
to be guarded against injury from other causes —
against the disease and death that follow breaches
of physiologic law. For complete living it is ne-
cessary, not only that sudden annihilations of life
shall be warded off ; but also that there shall be es-
caped the incapacities and the slow annihilation
which unwise habits entail. As, without health
and energy, the industrial, the parental, the social,
and all other activities become more or less impos-
sible ; it is clear that this secondary kind of direct
self-preservation is only less important than the pri-
mary kind ; and that knowledge tending to secure
it should rank very high.

It is true that here, too, guidance is in some
measure ready supplied. By our various physical
sensations and desires, Nature has insured a tolera-
ble conformity to the chief requirements. Fortu-
nately for us, want of food, great heat, extreme cold,
produce promptings too peremptory to be disre-

4:0 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

garded. And would men habitually obey these and
all like promptings when less strong, comparatively
few evils would arise. If fatigue of body or brain
were in every case followed by desistance ; if the
oppression produced by a close atmosphere always
led to ventilation ; if there were no eating without
hunger, or drinking without thirst ; then would the
system be but seldom out of working order. But
so profound an ignorance is there of the laws of life,
that men do not even know that their sensations are
their natural guides, and (when not rendered mor-
bid by long-continued disobedience) their trustwor-
thy guides. So that though, to speak teleologic-
ally, Nature has provided efficient safeguards to
health, lack of knowledge makes them in a great
measure useless.

If any one doubts the importance of an acquaint-
ance with the fundamental principles of physiology
as a means to complete living, let him look around
and see how many men and women he can find in
middle or later life who are thoroughly well. Oc-
casionally only do we meet with an example of
vigorous health continued to old age ; hourly do
we meet with examples of acute disorder, chronio
ailment, general debility, premature decrepitude.
Scarcely is there one to whom you put the ques-
tion, who has not, in the course of his life, brought
upon himself illnesses which a little knowledge
would have saved him from. Here is a case of
heart disease consequent on a rheumatic fever that
followed reckless exposure. There is a case of eyes

EFFECT8 OF PHYSIOLOGICAL IGNORANCE. 41

spoiled for life by overstudy. Yesterday the ac-
count was of one whose long-enduring lameness was
brought on by continuing, spite of the pain, to use
a knee after it had been slightly injured. And to
day we are told of another who has had to lie by
for years, because he did not know that the palpita-
tion he suffered from resulted from overtaxed brain.
Now we hear of an irremediable injury that follow-
ed some silly feat of strength ; and, again, of a con-
stitution that has never recovered from the effects
of excessive work needlessly undertaken. While
on all sides we see the perpetual minor ailments
which accompany feebleness. Not to dwell on the
natural pain, the weariness, the gloom, the waste
of time and money thus entailed, only consider how
greatly ill-health hinders the discharge of all duties
— makes business often impossible, and always more
difficult ; produces an irritability fatal to the right
management of children ; puts the functions of citi-
zenship out of the question ; and makes amusement
a bore. Is it not clear that the physical sins-^
partly our forefathers' and partly our own — which
produce this ill-health, deduct more from complete
living than anything else ? and to a great extent
make life a failure and a burden instead of a bene-
faction and a pleasure ?

To all which add the fact, that life, besides being
thus immensely deteriorated, is also cut short. It
is not true, as we commonly suppose, that a disor-
der or disease from which we have recovered leaves
us as before. No disturbance of the normal course

42^ WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH?

of the functions can pass away and leave things ex-
actly as they were. In all cases a permanent dam-
age is done — not immediately appreciable, it may
be, but still there ; and along with other such items
which Nature in her strict account-keeping never
drops, will tell against us to the inevitable shorten-
ing of our days. Through the accumulation of
small injuries it is that constitutions are commonly
undermined, and break down, long before their
time. And if we call to mind how far the average
duration of life falls below the possible duration,
we see how immense is the loss. When, to the nu-
merous partial deductions which bad health entails,
we add this great final deduction, it results that or-
dinarily more than one-half of life is thrown away.
Hence, knowledge which subserves direct self-
preservation by preventing this loss of health, is of
primary importance. We do not contend that pos-
session of such knowledge would by any means
wholly remedy the evil. For it is clear that in our
present phase of civilization men's necessities often
compel them to transgress. And it is further clear
th.tt, even in the absence of such compulsion, their
inclinations would frequently lead them, spite of
their knowledge, to sacrifice future good to present
gratification. But we do contend that the right
knowledge impressed in the right way would effect
much ; and we further contend that as the laws of
health must be recognised before they can be fully
conformed to, the imparting of such knowledge
must precede a more rational living — come when

8TEANGE OBLIQUITIES OF OPINION. 43

that may. We infer that as vigorous health and
its accompanying high spirits are larger elements
of happiness than any other things whatever, the
teaching how to maintain them is a teaching that
yields in moment to no other whatever. And there°
fore we assert that such a course of physiology as is
needful for the comprehension of its general truths,
and their bearings on daily conduct, is an all-essen-
tial part of a rational education.

Strange that the assertion should need making !
Stranger still that it should need defending ! Yet
are there not a few by whom such a proposition
will be received with something approaching to de-
rision. Men who would blush if caught saying
Iphigenia instead of Iphigenia, or would resent as
an insult any imputation of ignorance respecting
the fabled labours of a fabled demi-god, show not
the slightest shame in confessing that they do not
know where the Eustachian tubes are, what are the
actions of the spinal cord, what is the normal rate
of pulsation, or how the lungs are inflated. While
anxious that their sons should be well up in the su-
perstitions of two thousand years ago, they care not
that they should be taught anything about the
structure and functions of their own bodies — nay,
would even disapprove such instruction. So over-
whelming is the influence of established routine!
So terribly in our education does the ornamental
override the useful !

We need not insist on the value of that knowl-
edge which aids indirect self-preservation by facili-

44 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

tating the gaining of a livelihood. This is admitted
by all ; and, indeed, by the mass is perhaps too
exclusively regarded as the end of education. But
while every one is ready to endorse the abstract
proposition that instruction fitting youths for the
business of life is of high importance, or even to
consider it of supreme importance ; yet scarcely
any inquire what instruction will so fit them. It is
true that reading, writing, and arithmetic are taught
with an intelligent appreciation of their uses ; but
when we have, said this we have said nearly all.
While the great bulk of what else is acquired has
no bearing on the industrial activities, an immensi-
ty of information that has a direct bearing on the
industrial activities is entirely passed over.

For, leaving out only some very small classes,
what are all men employed in ? They are employ-
ed in the production, preparation, and distribution
of commodities. And on what does efficiency in
the production, preparation, and distribution of
commodities depend ? It depends on the use of
methods fitted to the respective natures of these
commodities ; it depends on an adequate knowledge
of their physical, chemical, or vital properties, as
the case may be ; that is, it depends on Science.
This order of knowledge, which is in great part ig-
nored in our school courses, is the order of knowl-
edge underlying the right performance of all those
processes by which civilized life is made possible.
Undeniable as is this truth, and thrust upon us as
it is at every turn, there seems to be no living con*

NEEDS OF THE CONSTRUCTOR 45

eeiousness of it : its very familiarity mak«s it unre-
garded. To give due weight to our argument, wc
must, therefore, realize this truth to the reader by
a rapid review of the facts.

For all the higher arts of construction, pome ac-
quaintance with Mathematics is indispensable. The
village carpenter, who, lacking rational instruction,
lays out his work by empirical rules learnt in his ap-
prenticeship, equally with the builder of a Britan-
nia Bridge, makes hourly reference to the laws of
quantitative relations. The surveyor on whose sur •
vey the land is purchased ; the architect in design-
ing a mansion to be built on it ; the builder in pre-
paring his estimates ; his foreman in laying out the
foundations ; the masons in cutting the stones ; and
the various artisans who put up the fittings ; are all
guided by geometrical truths. Railway-making i»
regulated from beginning to end by mathematics ;
alike in the preparation of plans and sections ; in
staking out the line ; in the mensuration of cuttings
and embankments ; in the designing, estimating,
and building of bridges, culverts, viaducts, tunnels,
stations. And similarly with the harbours, docks,
piers, and various engineering and architectural
works that fringe the coasts and overspread the face
of the country ; as well as the mines that run un-
derneath it. Out of geometry, too, as applied to
astronomy, the art of navigation has grown ; and
so, by this science, has been made possible that
enormous foreign commerce which supports a large
part of our population, and supplies us with many

46 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WOETH ?

necessaries and most of our luxuries. And now-a«
days even the farmer, for the correct laying out of
his drains, has recourse to the level — that is, to ge-
ometrical principles. When from those divisions of
mathematics which deal with space, and number,
some small smattering of which is given in schools,
we turn to that other division which deals with
force, of which even a smattering is scarcely ever
given, we meet with another large class of activities
which this science presides over. On the applica-
tion of rational mechanics depends the success of
nearly all modern manufacture. The properties of
the lever, the wheel and axle, &c, are involved in
every machine — every machine is a solidified me-
chanical theorem ; and to machinery in these times
we owe nearly all production. Trace the history
of the breakfast-roll. The soil out of which it came
was drained with machine-made tiles ; the surface
was turned over by a machine ; the seed was put
in by a machine ; the wheat was reaped, thrashed,
and winnowed by machines ; by machinery it was
ground and bolted ; and had the flour been sent to
Gosport, it might have been made into biscuits by
a machine. Look round the room in which you sit.
If modern, probably the bricks in its walls were
machine-made ; by machinery the flooring was
sawn and planed, the mantel-shelf sawn and pol-
ished, the paper-hangings made and printed ; the
veneer on the table, the turned legs of the chairs,
the carpet, the curtains, are all products of ma*
chinery. And your clothing — plain, figured, of

VALUE OF MECHANICAL SCIENCES. 4Y

printed — is it not wholly woven, nay, perhaps even
sewed, by machinery ? And the volume you are
reading — are not its leaves fabricated by one ma-
chine and covered with these words by another?
Add to which that for the means of distribution
over both land and sea, we are similarly indebted.
And then let it be remembered that according as
the principles of mechanics are well or ill used to
these ends, comes success or failure — individual and
national. The engineer who misapplies his formulaa
for the strength of materials, builds a bridge that
breaks down. The manufacturer whose apparatus
is badly devised, cannot compete with another whose
apparatus wastes less in friction and inertia. The
ship-builder adhering to the old model, is outsailed
by one who builds on the mechanically-justified
wave-line principle. And as the ability of a nation
to hold its own against other nations depends on
the skilled activity of its units, we see that on such
knowledge may turn the national fate. Judge then
the worth of mathematics.

Pass next to Physics. Joined with mathemat-
ics, it has given us the steam-engine, which does
the work of millions of labourers. That section of
physics which deals with the laws of heat, has taught
us how to economise fuel in our various industries ;
how to increase the produce of our smelting furnaces
by substituting the hot for the cold blast ; how to
ventilate our mines ; how to prevent explosions by
using the safety-lamp ; and, through the thermom-
eter, how to regulate innumerable processes. That

4:8 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

division which has the phenomena of light for its
subject, gives eyes to the old and the myopic ; aids
through the microscope in detecting diseases and
adulterations ; and by improved lighthouses pre-
vents shipwrecks. Researches in electricity and
magnetism have saved incalculable life and prop-
erty by the compass ; have subserved sundry arts by
the electrotype ; and now, in the telegraph, have
supplied us with the agency by which for the future
all mercantile transactions will be regulated, politi-
cal intercourse carried on, and perhaps national
quarrels often avoided. While in the details of in-
door life, from the improved kitchen-range up to
the stereoscope on the drawing-room table, the ap-
plications of advanced physics underlie our comforts
and gratifications.

Still more numerous are the bearings of Chem-
istry on those activities by which men obtain the
means of living. The bleacher, the dyer, the calico-
printer, are severally occupied in processes that are
well or ill done according as they do or do not con-
form to chemical laws. The economical reduction
from their ores of copper, tin, zinc, lead, silver, iron,
are in a great measure questions of chemistry. Su-
gar-refining, gas-making, soap-boiling, gunpowder
manufacture, are operations all partly chemical ; as
are also those by which are produced glass and por-
celain. Whether the distiller's wort stops at the
alcoholic fermentation or passes into the acetous, is
a chemical question on which hangs his profit 01
loss and the brewer, if his business is sufficient!}

CHEMISTRY AND AGRICULTURE. 49

large, finds it pay to keep a chemist on his premises.
Glance through a work on technology, and it be-
comes at once apparent that there is now scarcely
any process in the arts or manufactures over some
part, of which chemistry does not preside. And
then, lastly, we come to the fact that in these times,
agriculture, to be profitably carried on, must have
like guidance. The analysis of manures and soils ;
their adaptations to each other ; the use of gypsum
or other substance for fixing ammonia ; the utiliza-
tion of coprolites ; the production of artificial ma-
nures— all these are boons of chemistry which it
behoves the farmer to acquaint himself with. Be
it in the lucifer match, or in disinfected sewage, or
in photographs — in bread made without fermenta-
tion, or perfumes extracted from refuse, we may
perceive that chemistry affects all our industries ;
and that, by consequence, knowledge of it concerns
every one who is directly or indirectly connected
with our industries.

And then the science of life — Biology : does not
this, too, bear fundamentally upon these processes
of indirect self-preservation ? With what we ordi-
narily call manufactures, it has, indeed, little con-
nexion ; but with the all-essential manufacture — >
that of food — it is inseparably connected. As agri-
culture must conform its methods to the phenomena
of vegetable and animal life, it follows necessarily
that the science of these phenomena is the rational
basis of agriculture. Yarious biological truths have
indeed been empirically established and acted upon

60 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH I

by farmers while yet there has been no conception
of them as science : such as that particular ma-
nures are suited to particular plants ; that crops of
certain kinds unfit the soil for other crops ; that
horses cannot do good work on poor food ; that such
and such diseases of cattle and sheep are caused by
such and such conditions. These, and the every-
day knowledge which the agriculturist gains by ex*
perience respecting the right management of plants
and animals, constitute his stock of biological facts ;
on the largeness of which greatly depends his suc-
cess. And as these biological facts, scanty, indefi-
nite, rudimentary, though they are, aid him so es-
sentially ; judge what must be the value to him of
such facts when they become positive, definite, and
exhaustive. Indeed, even now we may see the
benefits that rational biology is conferring on him.
The truth that the production of animal heat im-
plies waste of substance, and that, therefore, pre-
venting loss of heat prevents the need for extra
food — a purely theoretical conclusion — now guides
the fattening of cattle : it is found that by keeping
cattle warm, fodder is saved. Similarly with re-
spect to variety of food. The experiments of phys-
iologists have shown that not only is change of diet
beneficial, but that digestion is facilitated by a mix-
ture of ingredients in each meal : both which truths
are now influencing cattle-feeding. The discovery
that a disorder known as " the staggers," of which
many thousands of sheep have died annually, is
caused by an entozoon which presses on the brain ;

IMPORTANCE OF SCIENCE TO FARMERS. 51

and that if the creature is extracted through the
softened place in the skull which marks its position,
the sheep usually recovers ; is another debt which
agriculture owes to biology. When we observe the
marked contrast between our farming and farming
on the Continent, and remember that this contrast
is mainly due to the far greater influence science
has had upon farming here than there ; and when
we see how, daily, competition is making the adop.
tion of scientific methods more general and neces-
sary ; we shall rightly infer that very soon, agricul-
tural success in England will be impossible without
a competent knowledge of animal and vegetable
physiology.

Yet one more science have we to note as bear-
ing directly on industrial success — the Science of
Society. Without knowing it, men who daily look
at the state of the money-market, glance over prices
current, discuss the probable crops of corn, cotton,
sugar, wool, silk, weigh the chances of war, and
from all those data decide on their mercantile oper*
ations, are students of social science : empirical and
blundering students it may be ; but still, students
who gain the prizes or are plucked of their profits,
according as they do or do not reach the right con-
clusion. Not only the manufacturer and the mer-
chant must guide their transactions by calculations
of supply and demand, based on numerous facts,
and tacitly recognising sundry general principles
of social action ; but even the retailer must do the
like : his prosperity very greatly depending upon

62 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

the correctness of his judgments respecting the fa
tnre wholesale prices and the future rates of con-
sumption. Manifestly, all who take part in the en-
tangled commercial activities of a community, are
vitally interested in understanding the laws accord-
ing to which those activities vary.

Thus, to all such as are occupied in the produc-
tion, exchange, or distribution of commodities, ac-
quaintance with science in some of its departments,
is of fundamental importance. Whoever is imme-
diately or remotely implicated in any form of indus-
try (and few are not) has a direct interest in under-
standing something of the mathematical, physical,
and chemical properties of things ; perhaps, also,
has a direct interest in biology ; and certainly has
in sociology. Whether he does or does not succeed
well in that indirect self-preservation which we call
getting a good livelihood, depends in a great degree
on his knowledge of one or more of these sciences :
not, it may be, a rational knowledge ; but still a
knowledge, though empirical. For what we call
learning a business, really implies learning the sci-
ence involved in it ; though not perhaps under the
name of science. And hence a grounding in science
is of great importance, both because it prepares for
all this, and because rational knowledge has an im-
mense superiority over empirical knowledge. More-
over, not only is it that scientific culture is requisite
for each, that he may understand the how and the
why of the things and processes with which he is con-
cerned as maker or distributor ; but it is often of

THE SCIENCE OF 80CIETT. 53

much moment that he should understand the how and
the why of various other things and processes. In
this age of joint-stock undertakings, nearly every
man above the labourer is interested as capitalist in
some other occupation than his own ; and, as thus in-
terested, his profit or loss often depends on his knowl-
edge of the sciences bearing on this other occupa-
tion. Here is a mine, in the sinking of which many
shareholders ruined themselves, from not knowing
that a certain fossil belonged to the old red sand-
stone, below which no coal is found. Not many
years ago, 20,000Z. was lost in the prosecution of a
scheme for collecting the alcohol that distils from
bread in baking : all which would have been saved
to the subscribers, had they known that less than a
hundredth part by weight of the flour is changed in
fermentation. Numerous attempts have been made
to construct electro-magnetic engines, in the hope
of superseding steam ; but had those who supplied
the money, understood the general law of the cor-
relation and equivalence of forces, they might
have had better balances at their bankers. Daily
are men induced to aid in carrying out inventions
which a mere tyro in science could show to be fu-
tile. Scarcely a locality but has its history of for-
tunes thrown away over some impossible project.

And if already the loss from want of science is
so frequent and so great, still .greater and more fre-
quent will it be to those who hereafter lack science.
Just as fast as productive processes become more
scientific, which competition will inevitably makb

54 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

them do; and just as fast as joint-stock undertak-
ings spread, which they certainly will ; so fast will
scientific knowledge grow necessary to every one.

That which our school courses leave almost en-
tirely out, we thus find to be that which most nearly
concerns the business of life. All our industries
would cease, were it not for that information which
men begin to acquire as they best may after their
education is said to be finished. And were it not
for this information, that has been from age to age
accumulated and spread by unofficial means, these
industries would never have existed. Had there
been no teaching but such as is given in our public
schools, England would now be what it was in
feudal times. That increasing acquaintance with
the laws of phenomena which has through success-
ive ages enabled us to subjugate Nature to our
needs, and in these days gives the common labourer
comforts which a few centuries ago kings could not
purchase, is scarcely in any degree owed to the ap-
pointed means of instructing our youth. The vital
knowledge — that by which we have grown as a na-
tion to what we are, and which now underlies our
whole existence, is a knowledge that has got itself
taught in nooks and corners ; while the ordained
agencies for teaching have been mumbling little
else but dead formulas.

"We come now to the third great division of hu.
man activities — a division for which no preparation
whatever is made. If by some strange chance not

TREATMENT CF OFFSPRING. 55

a vestige of us descended to the remote future save
a pile of our school-books or some college examina-
tion papers, we may imagine how puzzled an anti-
quary of the period would be on finding in them no
indication that the learners were ever likely to be
parents. " This must have been the curriculum for
their celibates," we may fancy him concluding.
" I perceive here an elaborate preparation for many
things : especially for reading the books of extinct
nations and of co-existing nations (from which in-
deed it seems clear that these people had very little
worth reading in their own tongue) ; but I find no
reference whatever to the bringing up of children.
They could not have been so absurd as to omit all
training for this gravest of responsibilities. Evi-
dently then, this was the school course of one of
their monastic orders."

Seriously, is it not an astonishing fact, that
though on the treatment of offspring depend their
lives or deaths, and their moral welfare or ruin ;
yet not one word of instruction on the treatment of
offspring is ever given to those who will hereafter
be parents ? Is it not monstrous that the fate of a
new generation should be left to the chances of un-
reasoning custom, impulse, fancy — joined with the
suggestions of ignorant nurses and the prejudiced
counsel of grandmothers? If a merchant com-
menced business without any knowledge of arith-
metic and book-keeping, we should exclaim at his
folly, and look for disastrous consequences. Or if,
before studying anatomy, a man set up as a surgi-
8

56 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF M08T WORTH?

cal operator, we should wonder at his audacity and
pity his patients. But that parents should begin
the difficult task of rearing children without ever
having given a thought to the principles — physical,
moral, or intellectual — which ought to guide them,
excites neither surprise at the actors nor pity for
their victims.

To tens of thousands that are killed, add hun-
dreds of thousands that survive with feeble consti-
tutions, and millions that grow up with constitu-
tions not so strong as they should be ; and you will
have some idea of the curse inflicted on their off-
spring by parents ignorant of the laws of life. Do
but consider for a moment that the regimen to
which children are subject is hourly telling upon
them to their life-long injury or benefit ; and that
there are twenty ways of going wrong to one way
of going right ; and you will get some idea of the
enormous mischief that is almost everywhere inflict-
ed by the thoughtless, haphazard system in com-
mon use. Is it decided that a boy shall be clothed
in some flimsy short dress, and be allowed to go
playing about with limbs reddened by cold ? The
decision will tell on his whole future existence —
either in illnesses ; or in stunted growth ; or in de-
ficient energy ; or in a maturity less vigorous than it
ought to have been, and consequent hindrances to suc-
cess and happiness. Are children doomed to a monot-
onous dietary, or a dietary that is deficient in nutri-
tiveness ? Their ultimate physical power and their
efficiency as men and women, will inevitably b&

RESTTLT8 OF PARENTAL IGNORANCE. 57

more or less diminished "by it. Are they forbidden
vociferous play, or (being too ill-clothed to bear ex-
posure), are they kept in-doors in cold weather 1
They are certain to fall below that measure of health
and strength to which they would else have attain-
ed. When sons and daughters grow up sickly and
feeble, parents commonly regard the event as a
misfortune — as a visitation of Providence. Think-
ing after the prevalent chaotic fashion, they assume
that these evils come without causes ; or that the
causes are supernatural. Nothing of the kind. In
some cases the causes are doubtless inherited ; but
in most cases foolish regulations are the causes.
Very generally parents themselves are responsible
for all this pain, this debility, this depression, this
misery. They have undertaken to control the lives
of their offspring from hour to hour ; with cruel
carelessness they have neglected to learn anything
about these vital processes which they are unceas-
ingly affecting by their commands and prohibitions ;
in utter ignorance of the simplest physiologic laws,
they have been year by year undermining the con-
stitutions of their children ; and have so inflicted
disease and premature death, not only on them but
on their descendants.

Equally great are the ignorance and the conse-
quent injury, when we turn from physical training
to moral training. Consider the young mother and
her nursery legislation. But a few years ago she
wa.8 at school, where her memory was crammed
with words, and names, and dates, and her reflect

58 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF M08T WORTH ?

ive faculties scarcely in the slightest degree exer-
cised— where not one idea was given her respecting
the methods of dealing with the opening mind of
childhood ; and where her discipline did not in the
least fit her for thinking out methods of her own.
The intervening years have been passed in practis-
ing music, in fancy-work, in novel-reading, and in
party-going : no thought having yet been given to
the grave responsibilities of maternity ; and scarcely
any of that solid intellectual cultm-e obtained which
would be some preparation for such responsibilities.
And now see her with an unfolding human charac-
ter committed to her charge — see her profoundly
ignorant of the phenomena with which she has to
deal, undertaking to do that which can be done but
imperfectly even with the aid of the profoundest
knowledge. She knows nothing about the nature
of the emotions, their order of evolution, their func-
tions, or where use ends and abuse begins. She is
under the impression that some of the feelings are
wholly bad, which is not true of any one of them ;
and that others are good, however far they may be
carried, which is also not true of any one of them.
And then, ignorant as she is of that with which she
has to deal, she is equally ignorant of the effects
that will be produced on it by this or that treat-
ment. What can be more inevitable than the dis-
astrous results wre see hourly arising? Lacking
knowledge of mental phenomena, with their causes
and consequences, her interference is frequently
more mischievous than absolute passivity would

EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG MOTHER. 59

have been. This and that kind of action, which
are quite normal and beneficial, she perpetually
thwarts ; and so diminishes the child's happiness
and profit, injures its temper and her own, and
produces estrangement. Deeds which she thinks
it desirable to encourage, she gets performed by
threats and bribes, or by exciting a desire for ap-
plause : considering little what the inward motive
may be, so long as the outward conduct conforms ;
and thus cultivating hypocrisy, and fear, and self-
ishness, in place of good feeling. While insisting
on truthfulness, she constantly sets an example of
untruth, by threatening penalties which she does
not inflict. While inculcating self-control, she hour-
ly visits on her little ones angry scoldings for acts
that do not call for them. She has not the re-
motest idea that in the nursery, as in the world,
that alone is the truly salutary discipline which
visits on all conduct, good and bad, the natural
consequences — the consequences, pleasurable or
painful, which in the nature of things such conduct
tends to bring. Being thus without theoretic guid-
ance, and quite incapable of guiding herself by
tracing the mental processes going on in her chil-
dren, her rule is impulsive, inconsistent, mischiev-
ous, often, in the highest degree ; and would indeed
be generally ruinous, were it not that the over-
whelming tendency of the growing mind to assume
the moral type of the race, usually subordinates all
minor influences.

And then the culture of the intellect — is not

60 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF M08T WORTH ?

this, too, mismanaged in a similar manner ? Grant
that the phenomena of intelligence conform to
laws ; grant that the evolution of intelligence in a
child also conforms to laws ; and it follows inevita-
bly that education can be rightly guided only by a
knowledge of these laws. To suppose that you can
properly regulate this process of forming and accu-
mulating ideas, without understanding the nature
of the process, is absurd. How widely, then, must
teaching as it is, differ from teaching as it should
be ; when hardly any parents, and but few teachers,
know anything about psychology. As might be
expected, the system is grievously at fault, alike in
matter and in manner. While the right class of
facts is withheld, the wrong class is forcibly admin-
istered in the wrong way and in the wrong order.
With that common limited idea of education which
confines it to knowledge gained from books, parents
thrust primers into the hands of their little ones
years too soon, to their great injury. Not recog-
nising the truth that the function of books is sup-
plementary— that they form an indirect means to
knowledge when direct means fail — a means of see-
ing through other men what you cannot see for
yourself; they are eager to give second-hand facts
in place of first-hand facts. Not perceiving the
enormous value of that spontaneous education
which goes on in early years — not perceiving that
a child's restless observation, instead of being ig-
nored or checked, should be diligently administered
to, and made as accurate and complete as possible ;

IMPORTANCE OF P8YCHOLOGT. 61

they insist on occupying its eyes and thoughts with
things that are, for the time being, incomprehensi-
ble and repugnant. Possessed by a superstition
which worships the symbols of knowledge instead
of the knowledge itself, they do not see that only
when his acquaintance with the objects and processes
of the household, the streets, and the fields, is be-
coming tolerably exhaustive — only then should a
child be introduced to the new sources of informa-
tion which books supply : and this, not only because
immediate cognition is of far greater value than
mediate cognition ; but also, because the words
contained in books can be rightly interpreted into
ideas, only in proportion to the antecedent experi-
ence of things. Observe next, that this formal in-
struction, far too soon commenced, is carried on with
but little reference to the laws of mental develop-
ment. Intellectual progress is of necessity from the
concrete to the abstract. But regardless of this,
highly abstract subjects, such as grammar, which
should come quite late, are begun quite early. Po'
litical geography, dead and uninteresting to a child,
and which should be an appendage of sociological
studies, is commenced betimes ; while physical ge-
ography, comprehensible and comparatively attract-
ive to a child, is in great part passed over. Nearly
every subject dealt with is arranged in abnormal
order : definitions, and rules, and principles being
put first, instead of being disclosed, as they are in
the order of nature, through the study of cases.
And then, pervading the whole, is the vicious By*

62 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH i

tern of rote learning — a system of sacrificing the
spirit to the letter. See the results. / What with
perceptions unnaturally dulled by early thwarting,
and a coerced attention to books — what with the
mental confusion produced by teaching subjects be-
fore they can be understood, and in each of them
giving generalizations before the facts of which
these are the generalizations — what with making the
pupil a mere passive recipient of other's ideas, and
not in the least leading him to be an active inquirer
or self-instructor — and what with taxing the facul-
ties to excess ; there are very few minds that be-
come as efficient as they might be. Examinations
being once passed, books are laid aside ; the greater
part of what has been acquired, being unorganized,
soon drops out of recollection ; what remains is
mostly inert — the art of applying knowledge not
having been cultivated ; and there is but little
power either of accurate observation or independent
thinking. To all which add, that while much of
the information gained is of relatively small value,
an immense mass of information of transcendent
value is entirely passed over.

Thus we find the facts to be such as might have
been inferred & prion. The training of children-
physical, moral, and intellectual — is dreadfully de-
fective. And in great measure it is so, because
parents are devoid of that knowledge by which this
training can alone be rightly guided. What is to be
expected when one of the most intricate of problems
is undertaken by those who have given scarcely a

TASK OF UNFOLDING A HUMAN BEING. 63

thought to the principles on which its solution
depends ? For shoe-making or house-building, for
the management of a ship or a locomotive-engine,
a long apprenticeship is needful. Is it, then, that
the unfolding of a human being in body and mind,
is so comparatively simple a process, that any one
may superintend and regulate it with no prepara-
tion whatever ? If not — if the process is with one
exception more complex than any in Nature, and
the task of administering to it one of surpassing
difficulty ; is it not madness to make no provision
for such a task ? Better sacrifice accomplishments
than omit this all-essential instruction. When
a father, acting on false dogmas adopted with-
out examination, has alienated his sons, driven them
into rebellion by his harsh treatment, ruined them,
and made himself miserable ; he might reflect that
the study of Ethology would have been worth pur-
suing, even at the cost of knowing nothing about
iEschylus. When a mother is mourning over a
first-born that has sunk imder the sequelae of scarlet-
fever — when perhaps a candid medical man has
confirmed her suspicion that her child would have
recovered had not its system been enfeebled by
over-study — when she is prostrate under the pangs
of combined grief and remorse ; it is but a small
consolation that she can read Dante in the original.
Thus we see that for regulating the third great
division of human activities, a knowledge of the
laws of life is the one thing needful. Some ac-
quaintance with the first principles of physiology

64 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF M08T WOKTH ?

and the elementary truths of psychology is indis
pensable for the right bringing np of children. We
doubt not that this assertion will by many be read
with a smile. That parents in general should be
3xpected to acquire a knowledge of subjects so
abstruse, will seem to them an absurdity. And if
we proposed that an exhaustive knowledge of these
subjects should be obtained by all fathers and
mothers, the absurdity would indeed be glaring
enough. But we do not. General principles only,
accompanied by such detailed illustrations as may
be needed to make them understood, would suffice.
And these might be readily taught — if not ration-
ally, then dogmatically. Be this as it may, how-
ever, here are the indisputable facts : — that the
development of children in mind and body rigor-
ously obeys certain laws ; that unless these laws are
in some degree conformed to by parents, death is
inevitable ; that unless they are in a great degree
conformed to, there must result serious physical and
mental defects ; and that only when they are com-
pletely conformed to, can a perfect maturity be
reached. Judge, then, whether all who may one
day be parents, should not strive with some anxiety
to learn what these laws are.

From the parental functions let us pass now to
the functions of the citizen. We have here to in-
quire what knowledge best fits a man for the dis-
charge of these functions. It cannot be alleged,
as in the last case, that the need for knowledge

WOETHLESSNESS OF OEDINAEY HISTOEY. 65

fitting him for these functions is wholly overlooked ;
for our school courses contain certain studies which,
nominally at least, bear upon political and social
duties. Of these the only one that occupies a
prominent place is History.

But, as already more than once hinted, the his-
toric information commonly given is almost value-
less for purposes of guidance. Scarcely any of the
facts set down in our school-histories, and very few
even of those contained in the more elaborate works
written for adults, give any clue to the right prin-
ciples of political action. The biographies of
monarchs (and our children commonly learn little
else) throw scarcely any light upon the science of
society. Familiarity with court intrigues, plots,
usurpations, or the like, and with all the personali-
ties accompanying them, aids very little in eluci-
dating the principles on which national welfare
depends. We read of some squabble for power,
that it led to a pitched battle ; that such and such
were the names of the generals and their leading
subordinates ; that they had each so many thousand
infantry and cavalry, and so many cannon ; that
they arranged their forces in this and that order ;
that they manoeuvred, attacked, and fell back in
certain ways : that at this part of the day such dis-
asters were sustained, and at that such advantages
gained ; that in one particular movement some
leading officer fell, while in another a certain regi-
ment was decimated ; that after all the changing
fortunes of the fight, the victory was gained by this

66 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

or that army ; and that 60 many were killed and
wounded on each side, and so many captured by
the conquerors. And now, out of the accumulated
details which make up the narrative, say which it
is that helps you in deciding on your conduct as a
citizen. Supposing even that you had diligently
read, not only " The Fifteen Decisive Battles of the
World," but accounts of all other battles that his-
tory mentions ; how much more judicious would
your vote be at the next election ? " But these are
facts — interesting facts," you say. Without doubt
they are facts (such, at least, as are not wholly or
partially fictions) ; and to many they may be inter-
esting facts. But this by no means implies that
they are valuable. Factitious or morbid opinion
often gives seeming value to things that have
scarcely any. A tulipomaniac will not part with a
choice bulb for its weight in gold. To another man
an ugly piece of cracked old china seems his most
desirable possession. And there are those who
give high prices for the relics of celebrated mur-
derers. Will it be contended that these tastes are
any measures of value in the things that gratify
them ? If not, then it must be admitted that the
liking felt for certain classes of historical facts is
no proof of their worth ; and that we must test their
worth as we test the worth of other facts, by asking
to what uses they are applicable. Were some one
to tell you that your neighbour's cat kittened yes-
terday, you would say the information was worth-
less. Fact though it might be, you would say it

TRUE USE8 OF HISTORY. 67

was an utterly useless fact — a fact that could in no
way influence your actions in life — a fact that would
not help you in learning how to live completely.
Well, apply the same test to the great mass of his-
torical facts, and you will get the same result.
They are facts from which no conclusions can be
drawn — unorganizdble facts ; and therefore facts
which can be of no service in establishing principles
of conduct, which is the chief use of facts. Read
them, if you like, for amusement ; but do not flatter
yourself they are instructive.

That which constitutes History, properly so
called, is in great part omitted from works on the
subject. Only of late years have historians com-
menced giving us, in any considerable quantity, the
truly valuable information. As in past ages the
king was every thing and the people nothing ; so,
in past histories the doings of the king fill the entire
picture, to which the national life forms but an ob-
scure background. While only now, when the
welfare of nations rather than of rulers is becoming
the dominant idea, are historians beginning to oc-
cupy themselves with the phenomena of social
progress. That which it really concerns us to
know, is the natural history of society. We want
all facts which help us to understand how a nation
has grown and organized itself. Among these, let
us of course have an account of its government ;
with as little as may be of gossip about the men
who officered it, and as much as possible about the
structure, principles, methods, prejudices, corrupt

68 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH?

tions, &c., which it exhibited : and let this account
not only include the nature and actions of the cen-
tral government, but also those of local governments,
down to their minutest ramifications. Let us of
course also have a parallel description of the eccle-
siastical government — its organization, its conduct,
its power, its relations to the State : and accompany-
ing this, the ceremonial, creed, and religious ideas
— not only those nominally believed, but those
really believed and acted upon. Let us at the same
time be informed of the control exercised by class
over class, as displayed in all social observances —
in titles, salutations, and forms of address. Let us
know, too, what were all the other customs which
regulated the popular life out of doors and in-doors :
including those which concern the relations of the
sexes, and the relations of parents to children. The
superstitions, also, from the more important myths
down to the charms in common use, should be in-
dicated. Next should come a delineation of the
industrial system : showing to what extent the divi-
sion of labour was carried ; how trades were regu-
lated, whether by caste, guilds, or otherwise ; what
was the connection between employers and em-
ployed ; what were the agencies for distributing
commodities, what were the means of communica-
tion ; what was the circulating medium. Accom-
panying all which should come an account of the
industrial arts technically considered : stating the
processes in use, and the quality of the products.
Further, the intellectual condition of the nation in

HISTORY A DE8CBIPTIVE SOCIOLOGY. 69

its various grades should be depicted : not only
with respect to the kind and amount of education,
but with respect to the progress made in science,
and the prevailing manner of thinking. The degree
of aesthetic culture, as displayed in architecture,
sculpture, painting, dress, music, poetry, and fic-
tion, should be described. Nor should there be
omitted a sketch of the daily lives of the people — ■
their food, their homes, and their amusements.
And lastly, to connect the whole, should be ex-
hibited the morals, theoretical and practical, of all
classes : as indicated in their laws, habits, proverbs,
deeds. A 11 these facts, given with as much brevity
as consists with clearness and accuracy, should be
so grouped and arranged that they may be compre-
hended in their ensemble / and thus may be con-
templated as mutually dependent parts of one great
whole. The aim should be so to present them that
we may readily trace the consensus subsisting among
them ; with the view of learning what social phe-
nomena co-exist with what others. And then the
corresponding delineations of succeeding ages should
be so managed as to show us, as clearly as may be,
how each belief, institution, custom, and arrange-
ment was modified ; and how the consensus of
preceding structures and functions was developed
into the consensus of succeeding ones. Such alone
is the kind of information respecting past times,
which can be of service to the citizen for the regu-
lation of his conduct. The only history that is of
practical value, is what may be called Descriptive

70 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WOETH ?

Sociology. And the highest office which the his-
torian can discharge, is that of so narrating the
lives of nations, as to furnish materials for a Com-
parative Sociology ; and for the subsequent deter-
mination of the ultimate laws to which social phe-
nomena conform.

But now mark, that even supposing an adequate
stock of this truly valuable historical knowledge
has been acquired, it is of comparatively little use
without the key. And the key is to be found only
in Science. Without an acquaintance with the
general truths of biology and psychology, rational
interpretation of social phenomena is impossible.
Only in proportion as men obtain a certain rude,
empirical knowledge of human nature, are they
enabled to understand even the simplest facts of
social life : as, for instance, the relation between
supply and demand. And if not even the most
elementary truths of sociology can be reached until
some knowledge is obtained of how men generally
think, feel, and act under given circumstances ;
then it is manifest that there can be nothing like a
wide comprehension of sociology, unless through a
competent knowledge of man in all his faculties,
bodily and mental. Consider the matter in the ab-
stract, and this conclusion is self-evident. Thus : —
Society is made up of individuals ; all that is done
in society is done by the combined actions of indi-
viduals ; and therefore, in individual actions only
can be found the solutions of social phenomena.
But the actions of individuals depend on the laws

SCIENCE THE KEY TO HISTORY. 71

of their natures ; and their actions cannot he under-
stood until these laws are understood. These laws,
however, when reduced to their simplest expres-
sion, are found to depend on the laws of body and
mind in general. Hence it necessarily follows, that
biology and psychology are indispensable as inter-
preters of sociology. Or, to state the conclusions
still more simply : — all social phenomena are phe-
nomena of life — are the most complex manifesta-
tions of life — are ultimately dependent on the laws
of life — and can be understood only when the laws
of life are understood. Thus, then, we see that for
the regulation of this fourth division of human ac-
tivities, we are, as before, dependent on Science.
Of the knowledge commonly imparted in educa-
tional courses, very little is of any service in guiding
a man in his conduct as a citizen. Only a small
part of the history he reads is of practical value ;
and of this small part he is not prepared to make
proper use. He commonly lacks not only the
materials for, but the very conception of, descriptive
sociology ; and he also lacks that knowledge of the
organic sciences, without which even descriptive
sociology can give him but little aid.

And now we come to that remaining division of
human life which includes the relaxations, pleasures,
and amusements filling leisure hours. After con-
sidering what training best fits for self-preservation,
for the obtainment of sustenance, for the discharge
of parental duties, and for the regulation of social

72 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

and political conduct ; we have now to ccnisidc/
what training best fits for the miscellaneous ends
not included in these — for the enjoyments of Nature,
of Literature, and of the Fine Arts, in all their
forms. Postponing them as we do to things that bear
more vitally upon human welfare ; and bringing
everything, as we have, to the test of actual value ;
it will perhaps be inferred that we are inclined to
slight these less essential things. No greater mis-
take could be made, however. We yield to none
in the value we attach to aesthetic culture and its
pleasures. Without painting, sculpture, music,
poetry, and the emotions produced by natural
beauty of every kind, life would lose half its charm.
So far from thinking that the training and gratifica-
tion of the tastes are unimportant, we believe the
time will come when they will occupy a much
larger share of human life than now. When the
forces of Nature have been fully conquered to man's
use — when the means of production have been
brought to perfection — when labour has been econ-
omized to the highest degree — when education has
been so systematized that a preparation for the more
essential activities may be made with comparative
rapidity — and when, consequently, there is a great
increase of spare time ; then will the poetry, both
of Art and Nature, rightly fill a large space in the
minds of all.

But it is one thing to admit that aesthetic cul-
ture is in a high degree conducive to human hap-
piness ; and another thing to admit that it is a

KANK OF AESTHETIC CULTURE. 73

fundamental requisite to human happiness. How-
ever important it may be, it must yield precedence
to those kinds of culture which bear more directly
upon the duties of life. As before hinted, literature
and the fine arts are made possible by those activi-
ties which make individual and social life possible ;
and manifestly, that which is made possible, must
be postponed to that which makes it possible. A
florist cultivates a plant for the sake of its flower ;
and regards the roots and leaves as of value, chiefly
because they are instrumental in producing the
flower. But while, as an ultimate product, the
flower is the thing to which everything else is
subordinate, the florist very well knows that the
root and leaves are intrinsically of greater impor-
tance ; because on them the evolution of the flower
depends. He bestows every care in rearing a healthy
plant ; and knows it would be folly if, in his anx-
iety to obtain the flower, he were to neglect the
plant. Similarly in the case before us. Architec-
ture, sculpture, painting, music, poetry, &c, may
be truly called the efflorescence of civilized life.
But even supposing them to be of such transcendent
worth as to subordinate the civilized life out of which
they grow (which can hardly be asserted), it will
still be admitted that the production of a healthy
civilized life must be the first consideration ; and
that the knowledge conducing to this must occupy
the highest place.

And here we see most distinctly the vice of our
educational system. It neglects the plant for the

74 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WOETH ?

Bake of the flower. In anxiety for elegance, it for-
gets substance. While it gives no knowledge con-
ducive to self-preservation — while of knowledge
that facilitates gaining a livelihood it gives but the
rudiments, and leaves the greater part to be picked
up any how in after life — while for the discharge
of parental functions it makes not the slightest pro-
vision— and while for the duties of citizenship it
prepares by imparting a mass of facts, most of
which are irrelevant, and the rest without a key ;
it is diligent in teaching every thing that adds to
refinement, polish, e'clat. However fully we may
admit that extensive acquaintance with modern
languages is a valuable accomplishment, which,
through reading, conversation, and travel, aids in
giving a certain finish ; it by no means follows that
this result is rightly purchased at the cost of that
vitally important knowledge sacrificed to it. Sup-
posing it true that classical education conduces to
elegance and correctness of style ; it cannot be said
that elegance and correctness of style are com-
parable in importance to a familiarity with the
principles that should guide the rearing of children.
Grant that the taste may be greatly improved by
reading all the poetry written in extinct languages ;
yet it is not to be inferred that such improvement
of taste is equivalent in value to an acquaintance
with the laws of health. Accomplishments, the fine
arts, belles-lettres, and all those things which, as we
say, constitute the efflorescence of civilization,
ehould be wholly subordinate to that knowledge

SCIENCE UNDERLIES THE FINE ARTS. 75

and discipline in which civilization rests. As they
occupy the leisure part of life, so should they occupy
the leisure part of education.

Recognising thus the true position of aesthetics,
and holding that while the cultivation of them
should form a part of education from its commence-
ment, such cultivation should be subsidiary ; we
have now to inquire what knowledge is of most use
to this end — what knowledge best fits for this
remaining sphere of activity. To this question the
answer is still the same as heretofore. Unexpected
as the assertion may be, it is nevertheless true, that
the highest Art of every kind is based upon Science
— that without Science there can be neither perfect
production nor full appreciation. Science, in that
limited technical acceptation current in society,
may Dot have been possessed by many artists of
high repute ; but acute observers as they have
been, they have always possessed a stock of those
empirical generalizations which constitute science
in its lowest phase ; and they nave habitually fallen
far below perfection, partly because their generali-
zations were comparatively few and inaccurate.
That science necessarily underlies the fine arts, be-
comes manifest, a priori, when we remember that
art-products are all more or less representative of
objective or subjective phenomena ; that they can
be true only in proportion as they conform to the
laws of these phenomena ; and that before they can
thus conform the artist must know what these laws

76 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH !

are. That this a priori conclusion tallies with ex-
perience we shall soon see.

Youths preparing for the practice of sculpture,
have to acquaint themselves with the bones and
muscles of the human frame in their distribution,
attachments, and movements. This is a portion
of science ; and it has been found needful to impart
it for the prevention of those many errors which
sculptors who do not possess it commit. For the
prevention of other mistakes, a knowledge of mechan-
ical principles is requisite ; and such knowledge not
being usually possessed, grave mechanical mistakes
are frequently made. Take an instance. For the
stability of a figure it is needful that the perpen-
dicular from the centre of gravity — "the line of
direction," as it is called — should fall within the
base of support ; and hence it happens, that when
a man assumes the attitude known as " standing at
ease," in which one leg is straightened and the
other relaxed, the line of direction falls within the
foot of the straightened leg. But sculptors unfa-
miliar with the theory of equilibrium, not un-
commonly so represent this attitude, that the line
of direction falls midway between the feet. Igno-
rance of the laws of momentum leads to analogous
errors : as witness the admired Discobolus, which,
as it is posed, must inevitably fall forward the
moment the quoit is delivered.

In painting, the necessity for scientific knowl-
edge, empirical if not rational, is still more con-
fcpicuous. In what consists the grotesqueness of

USES OF SCIENCE TO THE PAINTEB. 77

Chinese pictures, unless in their utter disregard of
the laws of appearances — in their absurd linear
perspective, and their want of aerial perspective ?
In what are the drawings of a child so faulty, if not
in a similar absence of truth — an absence arising,
in great part, from ignorance of the way in which
the aspects of things vary with the conditions?
Do but remember the books and lectures by which
students are instructed ; or consider the criticisms
of Ruskin ; or look at the doings of the Pre-
Raffaelites ; and you will see that progress in
painting implies increasing knowledge of how
effects in Nature are produced. The most diligent
observation, if not aided by science, fails to preserve
from error. Every painter will indorse the asser-
tion that unless it is known what appearances must
exist under given circumstances, they often will not
be perceived ; and to know what appearances must
exist, is, in so far, to understand the science of
appearances. From want of science Mr. J. Lewis,
careful painter as he is, casts the shadow of a lattice-
window in sharply-defined lines upon an opposite
wall ; which he would not have done, had he been
familiar with the phenomena of penumbrae. From
want of science, Mr. Rosetti, catching sight of a
peculiar iridescence displayed by certain hairy
surfaces under particular lights (an iridescence
caused by the diffraction of light in passing the
hairs), commits the error of showing this iridescence
on surfaces and in positions where it could not
occur.

78 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

To say that music, too, has need of scientific aid
will seem still more surprising. Yet it is demon-
strable that music is but an idealization of the nat-
ural language of emotion ; and that consequently,
music must be good or bad according as it conforms
to the laws of this natural language. The various
inflections of voice which accompany feelings of
different kinds and intensities, have been shown to
be the germs out of which music is developed. It
has been further shown, that these inflections and
cadences are not accidental or arbitrary ; but that
they are determined by certain general principles
of vital action ; and that their expressiveness de-
pends on this. Whence it follows that musical
phrases and the melodies built of them, can be ef-
fective only when they are in harmony with these
general principles. It is difficult here properly to
illustrate this position. But perhaps it will suffice
to instance the swarms of worthless ballads that in-
fest drawing-rooms, as compositions which science
would forbid. They sin against science by setting
to music ideas that are not emotional enough to
prompt musical expression ; and they also sin
against science by using musical phrases that have
no natural relation to the ideas expressed : even
where these are emotional. They are bad because
they are untrue. And to say they are untrue, is to
Bay they are unscientific.

Even in poetry the same thing holds. Like
music, poetry has its root in those natural modes of
expression which accompany deep feeling. Its

SCIENCE DEAL8 WITH MUSIC AND POETRY. 79

rhythm, its strong and numerous metaphors, its hy-
perboles, its violent inversions, are simply exaggera-
tions of the traits of excited speech. To be good,
therefore, poetry must pay respect to those laws of
nervous action which excited speech obeys. In in°
tensifying and combining the traits of excited speech,
it must have due regard to proportion — must not
use its appliances without restriction ; but, where
the ideas are least emotional, must use the forms of
poetical expression sparingly ; must use them more
freely as the emotion rises ; and must carry them
all to their greatest extent only where the emotion
reaches a climax. The entire contravention of these
principles results in bombast or doggerel. The in-
sufficient respect for them is seen in didactic poetry.
And it is because they are rarely fully obeyed, that
we have so much poetry that is inartistic.

Not only is it that the artist, of whatever kind,
cannot produce a truthful work without he under-
stands the laws of the phenomena he represents ;
but it is that he must also understand how the
minds of spectators or listeners will be affected by
the several peculiarities of his work — a question in
psychology. What impression any given art-prod-
uct generates, manifestly depends upon the mental
natures of those to whom it is presented ; and as all
mental natures have certain general principles in
'common, there must result certain corresponding
general principles on which alone art-products can
be successfully framed. These general principles
cannot be fully understood and applied, unless the

4

80 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

artist sees how they follow from the laws of mind.
To ask whether the composition of a picture is good,
is really to ask how the perceptions and feelings of
observers will be affected by it. To ask whether a
drama is well constructed, is to ask whether its sit-
uations are so arranged as duly to consult the power
of attention of an audience, and duly to avoid over-
taxing any one class of feelings. Equally in arrang-
ing the leading divisions of a poem or fiction, and
in combining the words of a single sentence, the
goodness of the effect depends upon the skill with
which the mental energies and susceptibilities of
the reader are economized. Every artist, in the
course of his education and after-life, accumulates a
6tock of maxims by which his practice is regulated.
Trace such maxims to their roots, and you find they
inevitably lead you down to psychological princi-
ples. And only when the artist rationally under-
stands these psychological principles and their va-
rious corollaries, can he work in harmony with
them.

We do not for a moment believe that science
will make an artist. While we contend that the
leading laws both of objective and subjective phe-
nomena must be understood by him, we by no
means contend that knowledge of such laws will
serve in place of natural perception. Not only the
poet, but also the artist of every type, is born, not
made. What we assert is, that innate faculty alone
will not suffice ; but must have the aid of organized
knowledge. Intuition will do much, but it will not

SCIENCE NECESSARY TO APPRECIATE ART. 81

do all. Only when Genius is married to Science
can the highest results be produced.

As we have above asserted, Science is necessary
not only for the most successful production, but
also for the full appreciation of the fine arts. In
what consists the greater ability of a man than of
a child to perceive the beauties of a picture ; unless
it is in his more extended knowledge of those truths
in nature or life which the picture renders ? How
happens the cultivated gentleman to enjoy a fine
poem so much more than a boor does ; if it is not
because his wider acquaintance with objects and ac-
tions enables him to see in the poem much that the
boor cannot see ? And if, as is here so obvious,
there must be some familiarity with the things rep-
resented, before the representation can be appreci-
ated ; then the representation can be completely
appreciated, only in proportion as the things repre-
sented are completely understood. The fact is, that
every additional truth which a work of art express-
es, gives an additional pleasure to the percipient
mind — a pleasure that is missed by those ignorant
of this truth. The more realities an artist indicates
in any given amount of work, the more faculties
does he appeal to ; the* more numerous associated
ideas does he suggest ; the more gratification does
he afford. But to receive this gratification the
spectator, listener, or reader, must know the reali-
ties which the artist has indicated ; and to know
these realities is to know so much science.

And now let us not overlook the further great

82 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

fact, that not only does science underlie sculpture,
painting, music, poetry, but that science is itself
poetic. The current opinion that science and poet-
ry are opposed is a delusion. It is doubtless true
that as states of consciousness, cognition and emo-
tion tend to exclude each other. And it is doubt-
less also true that an extreme activity of the reflect-
ive powers tends to deaden the feelings ; while an
extreme activity of the feelings tends to deaden the
reflective powers : in which sense, indeed, all orders
of activity are antagonistic to each other. But it
is not true that the facts of science are unpoetical ;
or that the cultivation of science is necessarily un-
friendly to the exercise of imagination or the love
of the beautiful. On the contrary science opens up
realms of poetry where to the unscientific all is a
blank. Those engaged in scientific researches con-
stantly show us that they realize not less vividly,
but more vividly, than others, the poetry of their
subjects. Whoever will dip into Hugh Miller's
works on geology, or read Mr. Lewes's " Seaside
Studies," will perceive that science excites poetry
rather than extinguishes it. And whoever will con-
template the life of Goethe will see that the poet
and the man of science can. co-exist in equal activi-
ty. Is it not, indeed, an absurd and almost a sacri-
legious belief that the more a man studies Nature
the less he reveres it ? Think you that a drop of
water, which to the vulgar eye is but a drop of
water, loses anything in the eye of the physicist
who knows that its elements are held together by a

SCIENCE ITSELF POETIC. 83

force which, if suddenly liberated, would produce a
flash of lightning ? Think you that what is care-
lessly looked upon by the uninitiated as a mere
snow-flake, does not suggest higher associations to
one who has seen through a microscope the won-
drously varied and elegant forms of snow-crystals ?
Think you that the rounded rock marked with par-
allel scratches calls up as much poetry in an igno-
rant mind as in the mind of a geologist, who knows
that over this rock a glacier slid a million years
ago ? The truth is, that those who have never en-
tered upon scientific pursuits know not a tithe of
the poetry by which they are surrounded. Who-
ever has not in youth collected plants and insects,
knows not half the halo of interest which lanes and
hedge-rows can assume. Whoever has not sought
for fossils, has little idea of the poetical associations
that surround the places where imbedded treasures
were found. Whoever at the seaside has not had a
microscope and aquarium, has yet to learn what
the highest pleasures of the seaside are. Sad, in-
deed, is it to see how men occupy themselves with
trivialities, and are indifferent to the grandest phe-
nomena— care not to understand the architecture of
the Heavens, but are deeply interested in some con-
temptible controversy about the intrigues of Mary
Queen of Scots ! — are learnedly critical over a
Greek ode, and pass by without a glance that grand
epic written by the finger of God uoon the strata of
the Earth !

We find, then, that even for this remaining di'

84 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

vision of human activities, scientific culture is the
proper preparation. We find that aesthetics in gen-
eral are necessarily based upon scientific principles ;
and can be pursued with complete success onlyi
through an acquaintance with these principles. We
find that for the criticism and due appreciation of
works of art, a knowledge of the constitution of
things, or in other words, a knowledge of science, is
requisite. And we not only find that science is the
handmaid to all forms of art and poetry, but that,
rightly regarded, science is itself poetic.

Tims far our question has been, the worth of
knowledge of this or that kind for purposes of guid-
ance. We have now to judge the relative values
of different kinds of knowledge for purposes of
discipline. This division of our subject we are
obliged to treat with comparative brevity ; and
happily, no very lengthened treatment of it is need-
ed. Having found what is best for the one end, we
have by implication found what is best for the other.
We may be quite sure that the acquirement of those
classes of facts which are most useful for regulating
conduct, involves a mental exercise best fitted for
strengthening the faculties. It would be utterly
contrary to the beautiful economy of Nature, if one
kind of culture were needed for the gaining of in-
formation and another kind were needed as a men-
tal gymnastic. Everywhere throughout creation
we find faculties developed through the performance
of those functions which it is their office to per-

STUDIES BEST ADAPTED FOE DISCIPLINE. 85

form ; not through the performance of artificial ex-
ercises devised to fit them for these functions. The
Red Indian acquires the swiftness and agility which
make him a successful hunter, by the actual pursuit
of animals ; and by the miscellaneous activities of
his life, he gains a better balance of physical powers
than gymnastics ever give. That skill in tracking
enemies and prey which he has reached by long
practice, implies a subtlety of perception far exceed-
ing anything produced by artificial training. And
similarly throughout. From the Bushman, whose
eye, which being habitually employed in identify-
ing distant objects that are to be pursued or fled
from, has acquired a quite telescopic range, to the
accountant whose daily practice enables him to add
up several columns of figures simultaneously, we
find that the highest power of a faculty results from
the discharge of those duties which the conditions
of life require it to discharge. And we may be
certain, a priori, that the same law holds through-
out education. The education of most value for
guidance, must at the same time be the education
of most value for discipline. Let us consider the
evidence.

One advantage claimed for that devotion to
language-learning which forms so prominent a
feature in the ordinary curriculum, is, that the
memory is thereby strengthened. And it is ap-
parently assumed that this is an advantage peculiar
to the study of words. But the truth is, that the
sciences afford far wider fields for the exercise of

86 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IS OF MOST WORTH ?

memory. It is no slight task to remember all the
facts ascertained respecting our solar system ; much
more to remember all that is known concerning the
structure of our galaxy. The new compounds
which chemistry daily accumulates, are so numer-
ous that few, save professors, know the names of
them all ; and to recollect the atomic constitutions
and affinities of all these compounds, is scarcely
possible without making chemistry the occupation
of life. In the enormous mass of phenomena pre-
sented by the Earth's crust, and in the still more
enormous mass of phenomena presented by the
fossils it contains, there is matter which it takes the
geological student years of application to master.
In each leading division of physics — sound, heat,
light, electricity — the facts are numerous enough
to alarm any one proposing to learn them all.
And when we pass to the organic sciences, the effort
of memory required becomes still greater. In hu-
man anatomy alone, the quantity of detail is so
great, that the young surgeon has commonly to get
it up half-a-dozen times before he can permanently
retain it. The number of species of plants which
botanists distinguish, amounts to some 320,000 ;
while the varied forms of animal life with which the
zoologist deals, are estimated at some two millions.
So vast is the accumulation of facts which men of
science have before them, that only by dividing
and subdividing their labours can they deal with
it To a complete knowledge of his own division,
each adds but a general knowledge of the rest.

DISCIPLINE OF MEMORY AND JUDGMENT. 87

Surely, then, science, cultivated even to a very
moderate extent, affords adequate exercise for
memory. To say the very least, it involves quite
as good a training for this faculty as language does.
But now mark that while for the training of
mere memory, science is as good as, if not better
than, language ; it has an immense superiority in
the kind of memory it cultivates. In the acquire-
ment of a language, the connexions of ideas to be
established in the mind correspond to facts that are
in great measure accidental ; whereas, in the ac-
quirement of science, the connexions of ideas to be
established in the mind correspond to facts that are
mostly necessary. It is true that the relations of
words to their meaning is in one sense natural, and
that the genesis of these relations may be traced
back a certain distance; though very rarely to
the beginning ; (to which let us add the remark
that the laws of this genesis form a branch of mental
science — the science of philology.) But since it
will not be contended that in the acquisition of
languages, as ordinarily carried on, these natural
relations between words and their meanings are
habitually traced, and the laws regulating them
explained ; it must be admitted that they are com-
monly learned as fortuitous relations. On the othef
hand, the relations which science presents are causal
relations ; and, when properly taught, are under-
stood as such. Instead of being practically acci-
dental, they are necessary ; and as such, give exer-
cise to the reasoning faculties. While language

88 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

familiarizes with non-rational relations, science fa-
miliarizes with rational relations. While the one
exercises memory only, the other exercises both
memory and understanding.

Observe next that a great superiority of science
over language as a means of discipline, is, that it
cultivates the judgment. As, in a lecture on mental
education delivered at the Royal Institution, Pro-
fessor Faraday well remarks, the most common
intellectual fault is deficiency of judgment. He
contends that " society, speaking generally, is not
only ignorant as respects education of the judgment,
but it is also ignorant of its ignorance." And the
cause to which he ascribes this state is want of
scientific culture. The truth of his conclusion is
obvious. Correct judgment with regard to all
surrounding things, events, and consequences, be-
comes possible only through knowledge of the way
in which surrounding phenomena depend on each
other. No extent of acquaintance with the mean-
ings of words, can give the power of forming correct
inferences respecting causes and effects. The con-
stant habit of drawing conclusions from data, and
then of verifying those conclusions by observation
and experiment, can alone give the power of judg-
ing correctly. And that it necessitates this habit is
one of the immense advantages of science.

Not only, however, for intellectual discipline is
science the best ; but also for "moral discipline.
The learning of languages tends, if anything, further
to increase the already undue respect for authority.

8CIENCE AFFORDS MORAL DISCIPLINE. 89

Such and such are the meanings of these words,
says the teacher or the dictionary. So and so is
the rule in this case, says the grammar. By the
pupil these dicta are received as unquestionable.
His constant attitude of mind is that of submission
to dogmatic teaching. And a necessary result is a
tendency to accept without inquiry whatever is
established. Quite opposite is the attitude of mind
generated by the cultivation of science. By science,
constant appeal is made to individual reason. Its
truths are not accepted upon authority alone ; but
all are at liberty to test them — nay, in many cases,
the pupil is required to think out his own conclu-
sions. Every step in a scientific investigation is sub-
mitted to his judgment. He is not asked to admit
it without seeing it to be true. And the trust in
his own powers thus produced, is further increased
by the constancy with which Nature justifies his
conclusions when they are correctly drawn. From
all which there flows that independence which is a
most valuable element in character. Nor is this
the only moral benefit bequeathed by scientific
culture. When carried on, as it should always be,
as much as possible under the fonn of independent
research, it exercises perseverance and sincerity.
As says Professor Tyndall of inductive inquiry, " it
requires patient industry, and an humble and con-
scientious acceptance of what Nature reveals. The
first condition of success is an honest receptivity
and a willingness to abandon all preconceived
notions, however cherished, if they be found to

90 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WOETH ?

contradict the truth. Believe me, a self-renuncia-
tion which lias something noble in it, and of which
the world never hears, is often enacted in the private
experience of the true votary of science."

Lastly we have to assert — and the assertion will,
we doubt not, cause extreme surprise — that the
discipline of science is superior to that of our ordi-
nary education, because of the religious culture that
it gives. Of course we do not here use the words
scientific and religious in their ordinary limited
acceptations ; but in their widest and highest ac-
ceptations. Doubtless, to the superstitions that
pass under the name of religion, science is antago-
nistic ; but not to the essential religion which these
superstitions merely hide. Doubtless, too, in much
of the science that is current, there is a pervading
spirit of irreligion ; but not in that true science
which has passed beyond the superficial into the
profound.

" True science and true religion," says Professor Huxley
at the close of a recent course of lectures, " are twin-sisters,
and the separation of either from the other is sure to prove
the death of both. Science prospers exactly in proportion as
it is religious ; and religion flourishes in exact proportion to
the scientific depth and firmness of its basis. The great deeds
of philosophers have been less the fruit of their intellect than
of the direction of that intellect by an eminently religious tone
of mind. Truth has yielded herself rather to their patience,
their love, their single-heartedness, and their self-denial, than
to their logical acumen."

So far from science being irreligious, as many

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE OF SCIENCE. 91

think, t't is the neglect of science that is irreligious
— it is the refusal to stud y the surrounding creation
that is irreligious. Take a humble simile. Sup-
pose a writer were daily saluted with praises
couched in superlative language. Suppose the
wisdom, the grandeur, the beauty of his works,
were the constant topics of the eulogies addressed
to him. Suppose those who unceasingly uttered
these eulogies on his works were content with look-
ing at the outsides of them ; and had never opened
them, much less tried to understand them. What
value should we put upon their praises? What
should we think of their sincerity ? Yet, compar-
ing small things to great, such is the conduct of
mankind in general, in reference to the Universe
and its Cause. Nay, it is worse. Not only do they
pass by without study, these things which they daily
proclaim to be so wonderful ; but very frequently
they condemn as mere triilers those who give time
to the observation of Nature — they actually scorn
those who show any active interest in these marvels.
We repeat, then, that not science, but the neglect
of science, is irreligious. Devotion to science, is
a tacit worship — a tacit recognition of worth in the
things studied ; and by implication in their Cause.
It is not a mere lip-homage, but a homage ex-
pressed in actions — not a mere professed respect,
but a respect proved by the sacrifice of time, thought,
and labour.

Nor is it thus only that true science is essentially
religious. It is religious, too, inasmuch as it gen-

92 WHAT KNOWLEDGE IB OF MOST WORTH ?

erates a profound respect for, and an implicit faith
in, those uniform laws which underlie all things.
By accumulated experiences the man of science ac-
quires a thorough belief in the unchanging relations
of phenomena — in the invariable connexion of cause
and consequence — in the necessity of good or evil
results. Instead of the rewards and punishments
of traditional belief, which men vaguely hope they
may gain, or escape, spite of their disobedience ;
he finds that there are rewards and punishments in
the ordained constitution of things, and that the
evil results of disobedience are inevitable. He sees
that the laws to which we must submit are not
only inexorable but beneficent. He sees that in
virtue of these laws, the process of things is ever
towards a greater perfection and a higher happiness.
Hence he is led constantly to insist on these laws,
and is indignant when men disregard them. And
thus does he, by asserting the eternal principles
of things and the necessity of conforming to them,
prove himself intrinsically religious.

To all which add the further religious aspect of
science, that it alone can give us true conceptions
of ourselves and our relation to the mysteries of
existence. At the same time that it shows us all
which can be known, it shows us the limits beyond
which we can know nothing. Not by dogmatic
assertion does it teach the impossibility of compre-
hending the ultimate cause of things ; but it leads
us clearly to recognise this impossibility by bring-
ing us in every direction to boundaries we cannot

TRANSCENDENT VALUE OF SCIENCE. 93

cross. It realizes to us in a way which nothing
else can, the littleness of human intelligence in the
face of that which transcends human intelligence.
While towards the traditions and authorities of men
its attitude may be proud, before the impenetrable
veil which hides the Absolute its attitude is humble
— a true pride and a true humility. Only the sin-
cere man of science (and by this title we do not
mean the mere calculator of distances, or analyser
of compounds, or labeller of species ; but him who
through lower truths seeks higher, and eventually
the highest) — only the genuine man of science, we
say, can truly know how utterly beyond, not only
human knowledge, but human conception, is the
Universal Power of which Nature, and Life, and
Thought are manifestations.

We conclude, then, that for discipline, as well
as for guidance, science is of chief est value. In
all its effects, learning the meanings of things,
is better than learning the meanings of words.
Whether for intellectual, moral, or religious train-
ing, the study of surrounding phenomena is im-
mensely superior to the study of grammars and
lexicons.

Thus to the question with which we set out — •
What knowledge is of most worth ? — the uniform
reply is — Science. This is the verdict on all the
counts. For direct self-preservation, or the main-
tenance of life and health, the all-important knowl-
edge is — Science. For that indirect self-preservation

94 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

which we call gaining a livelihood, the knowledge
of greatest value is — Science. For the due dis-
charge of parental functions, the proper guidance
is to be found only in — Science. For that interpre-
tation of national life, past and present, without
which the citizen cannot rightly regulate his con-
duct, the indispensable key is — Science. Alike for
the most perfect production and highest enjoy-
ment of art in all its forms, the needful preparation
is still — Science* And for purposes of discipline
— intellectual, moral, religious — the most efficient
study is, once more — Science. The question which
at first seemed so perplexed, has become, in the
course of our inquiry, comparatively simple. We
have not to estimate the degrees of importance of
different orders of human activity, and different
studies as severally fitting us for them ; since we
find that the study of Science, in its most compre-
hensive meaning, is the best preparation for all
these orders of activity. We have not to decide
between the claims of knowledge of great though
conventional value, and knowledge of less though
intrinsic value ; seeing that the knowledge which
we find to be of most value in all other respects, is
intrinsically most valuable : its worth is not de-
pendent upon opinion, but is as fixed as is the rela-
tion of man to the surrounding world. Necessary
and eternal as are its truths, all Science concerns
all mankind for all time. Equally at present, and
in the remotest future, must it be of incalculable
importance for the regulation of their conduct, that

STKANGE NEGLECT OF SCIENCE. 95

men should understand the science of life, physical,
mental, and social ; and that they should under-
stand all other science as a key to the science of
life.

And yet the knowledge which is of such tran-
scendent value is that which, in our age of boasted
education, receives the least attention. While this
which we call civilization could never have arisen
had it not been for science ; science forms scarcely
an appreciable element in what men consider civi-
lized training. Though to the progress of science
we owe it, that millions find support where once
there was food only for thousands ; yet of these
millions but a few thousands pay any respect to
that which has made their existence possible.
Though this increasing knowledge of the proper-
ties and relations of things has not only enabled
wandering tribes to grow into populous nations,
but has given to the countless members of those
populous nations comforts and pleasures which their
few naked ancestors never even conceived, or could
have believed, yet is this kind of knowledge only
now receiving a grudging recognition in our highest
educational institutions. To the slowly growing
acquaintance with the uniform co-existences and
sequences of phenomena — to the establishment of
invariable laws, we owe our emancipation from the
grossest superstitions. But for science we should be
still worshipping fetishes ; or, with hecatombs of
victims, propitiating diabolical deities. And yet
this science, which, in place of the most degrading

96 WHAT KNOWLEDGE 18 OF MOST WORTH ?

conceptions of things, has given ns some insight
into the grandeurs of creation, is written against in
our theologies and frowned upon from our pulpits.
Paraphrasing an Eastern fable, we may say that
in the family of knowledges, Science is the house-
hold drudge, who, in obscurity, hides unrecognised
perfections. To her has been committed all the
work ; by her skill, intelligence, and devotion, have
all the conveniences and gratifications been ob-
tained ; and while ceaselessly occupied ministering
to the rest, she has been kept in the background,
that her haughty sisters might flaunt their frip-
peries in the eyes of the world. The parallel holds
yet further. For we are fast coming to the denoue-
ment, when the positions will be changed ; and
while these haughty sisters sink into merited neg-
lect, Science, proclaimed as highest alike in worth
and beauty, will reign supreme.

CHAPTER H.

INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

There cannot fail to be a relationship between
the successive systems of education, and the suc-
cessive social states with which they have co-existed.
Having a common origin in the national mind, the
institutions of each epoch, whatever be their special
functions, must have a family likeness. When men
received their creed and its interpretations from an
infallible authority deigning no explanations, it was
natural that the teaching of children should be
purely dogmatic. While " believe and ask no
questions " was the maxim of the Church, it was fitly
the maxim of the school. Conversely, now that
Protestantism has gained for adults a right of
private judgment and established the practice of
appealing to reason, there is harmony in the change
that has made juvenile instruction a process of ex-
position addressed to the understanding. Along
with political despotism, stern in its commands,
ruling by force of terror, visiting trifling crimes
with death, and implacable in its vengeance on the
disloyal, there necessarily grew up an academic
discipline similarly harsh — a discipline of multiplied
injunctions and blows for every breach of them — a

98 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

discipline of unlimited autocracy upheld by rods,
and ferules, and the black-hole. On the other hand,
the increase of political liberty, the abolition of
law restricting individual action, and the ameliora-
tion of the criminal code, have been accompanied
by a kindred progress towards non-coercive educa-
tion : the pupil is hampered by fewer restraints,
and other means than punishments are used to gov-
ern him. In those ascetic days when men, acting
on the greatest misery principle, held that the more
gratifications they denied themselves the more vir-
tuous they were, they, as a matter of course, con-
sidered that the best education which most thwarted
the wishes of their children, and cut short all spon-
taneous activity with — " You mustn't do so."
"While on the contrary, now that happiness is com-
ing to be regarded as a legitimate aim — now that
hours of labour are being shortened and popular
recreations provided, parents and teachers are be-
ginning to see that most childish desires' may
rightly be gratified, that childish sports should be
encouraged, and that the tendencies of the growing
mind are not altogether so diabolical as was sup-
posed. The age in which all thought that trades
must be established by bounties and prohibitions ;
that manufacturers needed their materials and quali-
ties and prices to be prescribed ; and that the value
of money could be determined by law ; was an
age which unavoidably cherished the notions that
a child's mind could be made to order ; that its
powers were to be imparted by the schoolmaster •

AN ORDER OF MENTAL EVOLUTION. 99

that it was a receptacle into which knowledge was
to be put and there built up after its teacher's ideal.
In this free-trade era, however, when we are learn-
ing that there is much more self-regulation in things
than was supposed ; that labour, and commerce,
and agriculture, and navigation can do better with-
out management than with it ; that political gov-
ernments, to be efficient, must grow up from within
and not be imposed from without ; we are also
beginnng to see that there is a natural process of
mental evolution which is not to be disturbed
without injury ; that we may not force on the un-
folding mind our artificial forms ; but that Psy-
chology, also, discloses to us a law of supply and
demand, to which, if we would not do harm, we
must conform. Thus alike in its oracular dogma-
tism, in its harsh discipline, in its multiplied restric-
tions, in its professed asceticism, and in its faith in
the devices of men, the old educational regime was
akin to the social systems with which it was .con-
temporaneous ; and similarly, in the reverse of these
characteristics our modern modes of culture corre-
spond to our more liberal religious and political
institutions.

But there remain further parallelisms to which
we have not yet adverted : that, namely, between
the processes by which these respective changes
have been wrought out ; and that between the
several states of heterogeneous opinion to which
they have led. Some centuries ago there was
uniformity of belief — religious, political, and edu-

100 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

cational. All men were Romanists, all were
Monarchists, all were disciples of Aristotle, and no
one thought of calling in question that grammar-
school routine under which all were brought up.
The same agency has in each case replaced this
uniformity by a constantly increasing diversity.
That tendency towards assertion of the individuality,
which, after contributing to produce the great
Protestant movement, has since gone on to produce
an ever-increasing number of sects — that tendency
which initiated political parties, and out of the two
primary ones has, in these modern days, evolved a
multiplicity to which every year adds — that ten-
dency which led to the Baconian rebellion against
the schools, and has since originated here and
abroad sundry new systems of thought — is a ten-
dency which, in education also, has caused division
and the accumulation of methods. As external
consequences of the same internal change, these
processes have necessarily been more or less simul-
taneous. The decline of authority, whether papal,
philosophic, kingly, or tutorial, is essentially one
phenomenon ; in each of its aspects a leaning tow-
ards free action is seen alike in the working out of
the change itself, and in the new forms of theory
and practice to which the change has given birth.

While many will regret this multiplication of
schemes of juvenile culture, the catholic observer
will discern in it a means of ensuring the final estab-
lishment of a rational system. Whatever may be
thought of theological dissent, it is clear that dissent

THE TRANSITION STAGE OF INQUIRY. 101

in education results in facilitating inquiry by the
division in labour. Were we in possession of the
true method, divergence from it would, of course,
be prejudicial ; but the true method having to be
found, the efforts of numerous independent seekers
carrying out their researches in different directions,
constitute a better agency for finding it than any
that could be devised. Each of them struck by
some new thought which probably contains more
or less of basis in facts — each of them zealous on
behalf of his plan, fertile in expedients to test
its correctness, and untiring in his efforts to make
known its success — each of them merciless in his
criticism on the rest — there cannot fail, by composi-
tion of forces, to be a gradual approximation of all
towards the right course. Whatever portion of the
normal method any one of them has discovered,
must, by the constant exhibition of its results, force
itself into adoption ; whatever wrong practices he
has joined with it must, by repeated experiment and
failure, be exploded. And by this aggregation of
truths and elimination of errors, there must eventu-
ally be developed a correct and complete body of
doctrine. Of the three phases through which human
opinion passes — the unanimity of the ignorant, the
disagreement of the inquiring, and the unanimity of
the wise — it is manifest that the second is the parent
of the third. They are not sequences in time only ;
they are sequences in causation. However impa-
tiently, therefore, we may witness the present con-
flict of educational systems, and however much we

LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORN]
SANTA BARBARA

102 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

may regret its accompanying evils, we must recog*
nise it as a transition stage needful to be passed
through, and beneficent in its ultimate effects.

Meanwhile may we not advantageously take
stock of our progress ? After fifty years of discus-
sion, experiment, and comparison of results, may
ws not expect a few steps towards the goal to be
already made good ? Some old methods must by
this time have fallen out of use ; some new ones
must have become established ; and many others
must be in process of general abandonment or
adoption. Probably we may see in these various
changes, when put side by side, similar characteris-
tics— may find in them a common tendency ; and
so, by inference, may get a clue to the direction in
which experience is leading us, and gather hints
how we may achieve yet further improvements.
Let us then, as a preliminary to a deeper considera-
tion of the matter, glance at the leading contrasts
between the education of the past and of the present.

The suppression of every error is commonly
followed by a temporary ascendency of the contrary
one ; and it so happened, that after the ages when
physical development alone was aimed at, there
came an age when culture of the mind was the sole
solicitude — when children had lesson-books put be-
fore them at between two and three years old — when
school-hours were protracted, and the getting of
knowledge was thought the one thing needful. As,
further, it usually happens, that after one of these
reactions the next advance is achieved by co-ordi'

CULTURE OF THE WHOLE BEING. 103

hating the antagonist errors, and perceiving that they
are opposite sides of one truth ; so we are now com-
ing to the conviction that body and mind must both
be cared for, and the whole being unfolded. The
forcing system has been in great measure given up,
and precocity is discouraged. People are beginning
to see that the first requisite to success in life, is to
be a good animal. The best brain is found of little
service, if there be not enough vital energy to work
it ; and hence to obtain the one by sacrificing the
source of the other, is now considered a folly — a
folly which the eventual failure of juvenile prodigies
constantly illustrates. Thus we are discovering the
wisdom of the saying, that one secret in education
is " to know how wisely to lose time."

The once universal practice of learning by rote,
is daily falling more into discredit. All modern
authorities condemn the old mechanical way of
teaching the alphabet. The multiplication table is
now frequently taught experimentally. In the ac-
quirement of languages, the grammar-school plan
is being superseded by plans based on the spontane-
ous process followed by the child in gaining its
mother tongue. Describing the methods there used,
the " Reports on the Training School at Battersea "
say : — " The instruction in the whole preparatory
course is chiefly .oral, and is illustrated as much as
possible by appeals to nature." And so throughout.
The rote-system, like other systems of its age, made
more of the forms and symbols than of the things
symbolized. To repeat the words correctly was
5

I O-i INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

everything ; to understand their meaning nothing :
and thus the spirit was sacrificed to the letter. It
is at length perceived, that in this case as in others,
such a result is not accidental but necessary — that
in proportion as there is attention to the signs, there
must be inattention to the things signified ; or that,
as Montaigne long ago said — Sgavoir jpar coeur n'est
pas sgavoir.

Along with rote-teaching, is declining also the
nearly allied teaching by rules. The particulars
first, and then the generalization, is the new method
— a method, as the Battersea School Reports re-
mark, which, though " the reverse of the method
usually followed which consists in giving the pupil
the rule first," is yet proved by experience to be
the right one. Rule-teaching is now condemned as
imparting a merely empirical knowledge — as pro-
ducing an appearance of understanding without the
reality. To give the net product of inquiry, with-
out the inquiry that leads to it, is found to be both
enervating and inefficient. General truths to be of
due and permanent use, must be earned. " Easy
come easy go," is a saying as applicable to knowl-
edge as to wealth. While rules, lying isolated in
the mind — not joined to its other contents as out-
growths from them — are continually forgotten, the
principles which those rules express piecemeal, be-
come, when once reached by the understanding,
enduring possessions. While the rule-taught youth
is at sea when beyond his rules, the youth instructed
in princ'ples solves a new case as readily as an old

MISCHIEFS OF RULE-TEACHING. 105

one. Between a mind of rules and a mind of prin-
ciples, there exists a difference such as that between
a confused heap of materials, and the same materials
organized into a complete whole, with all its parts
bound together. Of which types this last has not
only the advantage that its constituent parts are
better retained, but the much greater advantage,
that it forms an efficient agent for inquiry, for inde-
pendent thought, for discovery — ends for which the
first is useless. Nor let it be supposed that this is
a simile only : it is the literal truth. The union of
facts into generalizations is the organization of
knowledge, whether considered as an objective phe-
nomenon, or a subjective one : and the mental grasp
may be measured by the extent to which this or-
ganization is carried.

From the substitution of principles for rules, and
the necessarily co-ordinate practice of leaving ab-
stractions untaught until the mind has been famil-
iarized with the facts from which they are ab-
stracted, has resulted the postponement of some once
early studies to a late period. This is exemplified
in the abandonment of that intensely stupid custom,
the teaching of grammar to children. As M. Mar-
cel says : — " It may without hesitation be affirmed
that grammar is not the stepping-stone, but the
finishing instrument." As Mr. Wyse argues : —
" Grammar and Syntax are a collection of laws and
rules. Rules are gathered from practice ; they are
the results of induction to which we come by long
observation and comparison of facts. It is, in fine,

106 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

the science, the philosophy of language. In follow-
ing the process of nature, neither individuals nor
nations ever arrive at the science first. A language
is spoken, and poetry written, many years before
either a grammar or prosody is even thought of.
Men did not wait till Aristotle had constructed his
logic, to reason. In short, as grammar was made
after language, so ought it to be taught after lan-
guage : an inference which all who recognise the
relationship between the evolution of the race and of
the individual, will see to be unavoidable.

Of new practices that have grown up during the
decline of these old ones, the most important is the
systematic culture of the powers of observation.
After long ages of blindness men are at last seeing
that the spontaneous activity of the observing fac-
ulties in children has a meaning and a use. What
was once thought mere purposeless action, or play,
or mischief, as the case might be, is now recog-
nised as the process of acquiring a knowledge on
which all after-knowledge is based. Hence the
well-conceived but ill-conducted system of object-
lessons. The saying of Bacon, that physics is the
mother of sciences, has come to have a meaning
in education. Without an accurate acquaintance
with the visible and tangible properties of things,
our conceptions must be erroneous, our inferences
fallacious, and our operations unsuccessful. " The
education of the senses neglected, all after education
partakes of a drowsiness, a haziness, an insufficiency
which it is impossible to cure." Indeed, if we con-

TRAINING THE POWEE8 OF OBSERVATION. 107

6ider it, we shall find that exhaustive observation is
an element in all great success. It is not to artists,
naturalists, and men of science only, that it is need-
ful ; it is not only that the skilful physician depends
on it for the correctness of his diagnosis, and that
to the good engineer it is so important that some
years in the workshop are prescribed for him ; but
we may see that the philosopher also is fundamen-
tally one who observes relationships of things which
others had overlooked, and that the poet, too, is one
who sees the fine facts in nature which all recognise
when pointed out, but did not before remark. Noth-
ing requires more to be insisted on than that vivid
and complete impressions are all essential. No
sound fabric of wisdom can be woven out of a rot-
ten raw-material.

While the old method of presenting truths in
the abstract has been falling out of use, there has
been a corresponding adoption of the new method
of presenting them in the concrete. The rudimen-
tary facts of exact science are now being learnt by
direct intuition, as textures, and tastes, and colours
are learnt. Employing the ball-frame for first les-
sons in arithmetic exemplifies this. It is well illus-
trated, too, in Professor De Morgan's mode of ex-
plaining the decimal notation. M. Marcel, rightly
repudiating the old system of tables, teaches weights
and measures by referring to the actual yard and
foot, pound and ounce, gallon and quart ; and lets
the discovery of their relationships be experimental.
The use of geographical models and models of the

108 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

regular bodies, &c. as introductory to geography
and geometry respectively, are facts of the same
class. Manifestly a common trait of these methods
is, that they carry each child's mind through a pro-
cess like that which the mind of humanity at large
has gone through. The truths of number, of form,
of relationship in position, were all originally drawn
from objects ; and to present these truths to the
child in the concrete is to let him learn them as the
race learnt them. By and by, perhaps, it will be
seen that he cannot possibly learn them in any other
way ; for that if he is made to repeat them as ab-
stractions, the abstractions can have no meaning for
him, until he finds that they are simply statements
of what he intuitively discerns.

But of all the changes taking place, the most
significant is the growing desire to make the acquire-
ment of knowledge pleasurable rather than painful
— a desire based on the more or less distinct percep-
tion that at each age the intellectual action which
a child likes is a healthful one for it ; and con-
versely. There is a spreading opinion that the rise
of an appetite for any kind of knowledge implies
that the unfolding mind has become fit to assimilate
it, and needs it for the purposes of growth ; and
that on the other hand, the disgust felt towards any
kind of knowledge is a sign either that it is prema-
turely presented, or that it is presented in an indi-
gestible form. Hence the efforts to make early
education amusing, and all education interesting.
Hence the lectures on the value of play. Hence

THE NATURAL METHOD PLEASURABLE. 109

the defence of nursery rhymes, and fairy tales.
Daily we more and more conform our plans to ju-
venile opinion. Does the child like this or that kind
of teaching ? does he take to it ? we constantly ask.
" His natural desire of variety should be indulged,"
says M. Marcel ; " and the gratification of his curi-
osity should be combined with his improvement."
" Lessons," he again remarks, " should cease before
the child evinces symptoms of weariness." And so
with later education. Short breaks during school-
hours, excursions into the country, amusing lectures,
choral songs — in these and many like traits, the
change may be discerned. Asceticism is disappear-
ing out of education as out of life ; and the usual
test of political legislation — its tendency to promote
happiness — is beginning to be, in a great degree,
the test of legislation for the school and the nursery.
"What now is the common characteristic of these
several changes ? Is it not an increasing conformity
to the methods of nature ? The relinquishment of
early forcing against which nature ever rebels, and
the leaving of the first years for exercise of the
limbs and senses, show this. The superseding of
rote-learnt lessons by lessons orally and experimen-
tally given, like those of the field and play-ground,
shows this. The disuse of rule-teaching, and the
adoption of teaching by principles — that is, the
leaving of generalizations until there are particulars
to base them on — show this. The system of object-
lessons shows this. The teaching of the rudiments
of science in the concrete instead of the abstract,

110 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

shows this. And above all, this tendency is shown
in the variously directed efforts to present knowl-
edge in attractive forms, and so to make the ac-
quirement of it pleasurable. For as it is the order
of nature in all creatures that the gratification ac-
companying the fulfilment of needful functions
serves as a stimulus to their fulfilment — as during
the self-education of the young child, the delight
taken in the biting of corals, and the pulling to
pieces of toys, becomes the prompter to actions
which teach it the properties of matter ; it follows
that, in choosing the succession of subjects and the
modes of instruction which most interest the pupil,
we are fulfilling nature's behests, and adjusting our
proceedings to the laws of life.

Thus, then, we are on the highway towards the
doctrine long ago enunciated by Pestalozzi, that
alike in its order and its methods, education must
conform to the natural process of mental evolution
— that there is a certain sequence in which the facul-
ties spontaneously develop, and a certain kind of
knowledge which each requires during its develop-
ment ; and that it is for us to ascertain this sequence,
and supply this knowledge. All the improvements
above alluded to are partial applications of this
general principle. A nebulous perception of it
now prevails among teachers ; and it is daily more
insisted on in educational works. " The method of
nature is the archetype of all methods," says M.
Marcel. " The vital principle in the pursuit is to
enable the pupil rightly to instruct himself," writes

ORDER OF EVOLUTION OF THE FACULTIES. Ill

Mr. "Wyse. The more science familiarizes us with
the constitution of things the more do we see in
them an inherent self-sufficingness. A higher
knowledge tends continually to limit our interfer-
ence with the processes of life. As in medicine the
old " heroic treatment " has given place to mild
treatment, and often no treatment save a normal re-
gimen— as we have found that it is not needful to
mould the bodies of babes by bandaging them in
papoose fashion or otherwise — as in gaols it is being
discovered that no cunningly devised discipline of
ours is so efficient in producing reformation as the
natural discipline, the making prisoners maintain
themselves by productive labour ; so in education
we are finding that success is to be achieved only
by rendering our measures subservient to that spon-
taneous unfolding which all minds go through in
their progress to maturity.

Of course, this fundamental principle of tuition,
that the arrangement of matter and method must
correspond with the order of evolution and mode
of activity of the faculties — a principle so obviously
true, that once stated it seems almost self-evident —
has never been wholly disregarded. Teachers have
unavoidably made their school-courses coincide with
it in some degree, for the simple reason that educa-
tion is possible only on that condition. Boys were
never taught the rule-of-three until after they had
learnt addition. They were not set to write exer-
cises before they had got into their copy-books.
Conic sections have always been preceded by Eu-

112 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

clid. But the error of the old methods consists in
this, that they do not recognise in detail what they
are obliged to recognise in the general. Yet the
principle applies throughout. If from the time
when a child is able to conceive two things as re-
lated in position, years must elapse before it can
form a true concept of the earth, as a sphere made
up of land and sea, covered with mountains, forests,
rivers, and cities, revolving on its axis, and sweep-
ing round the sun — if it gets from the one concept
to the other by degrees — if the intermediate concepts
which it forms are consecutively larger and more
complicated ; is it not manifest that there is a gen-
eral succession through which only it can pass ;
that each larger concept is made by the combina-
tion of smaller ones, and presupposes them ; and
that to present any of these compound concepts be-
fore the child is in possession of its constituent
ones, is only less absurd than to present the final
concept of the series before the initial one ? In the
mastering of every subject some course of increasing-
ly complex ideas has to be gone through. The evo-
lution of the corresponding faculties consists in the
assimilation of these ; which, in any true sense, is
impossible without they are put into the mind in
the normal order. And when this order is not fol-
lowed, the result is, that they are received with
apathy or disgust ; and that unless the pupil is in-
telligent enough to eventually fill up the gaps him-
self, they lie in his memory as dead facts, capable
of being turned to little or no use.

GUIDANCE NOT TO BE DISPENSED WITH. 113

" But why trouble ourselves about any curri-
culum at all ? " it may be asked. " If it be true
that the mind like the body has a predetermined
course of evolution, — if it unfolds spontaneously—
if its successive desires for this or that kind of in-
formation arise when these are severally required
for its nutrition, — if there thus exists in itself a
prompter to the right species of activity at the
right time ; why interfere in any way ? Why not
leave children wholly to the discipline of nature ? —
why not remain quite passive and let them get
knowledge as they best can ? — why not be consistent
throughout ? " This is an awkward looking ques-
tion. Plausibly implying as it does, that a system
of complete laissez-faire is the logical outcome of
the doctrines set forth, it seems to furnish a disproof
of them by reductio ad dbsurdum. In truth, how-
ever, they do not, when rightly understood, commit
us to any such untenable position. A glance at
the physical analogies will clearly show this. It is
a general law of all life that the more complex the
organism to be produced, the longer the period
during which it is dependent on a parent organism
for food and protection. The contrast between the
minute, rapidly-formed, and self-moving spore of a
conferva, and the slowly developed seed of a tree,
with its multiplied envelopes and large stock of
nutriment laid by to nourish the germ during its
first stages of growth, illustrates this law in its
application to the vegetable world. Among animal
organisms we may trace it in a series of con-

114 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

trasts from the monad whose spontaneously-divided
halves are as self-sufficing the moment after their
separation as was the original whole ; up to man,
whose offspring not only passes through a protracted
gestation, and subsequently long depends on the
breast for sustenance ; but after that must have
its food artificially administered ; must, after it
has learned to feed itself, continue to have bread,
clothing, and shelter provided ; and does not acquire
the power of complete self-support until a time
varying from fifteen to twenty years after its birth.
Now this law applies to the mind as to the body.
For mental pabulum also, every higher creature,
and especially man, is at first dependent on adult
aid. Lacking the ability to move about, the babe
is as powerless to get materials on which to exer-
cise its perceptions as it is to get supplies for its
stomach. Unable to prepare its own food, it is in
like manner unable to reduce many kinds of knowl-
edge to a fit form for assimilation. The language
through which all higher truths are to be gained it
wholly derives from those surrounding it. And
we see in such an example as the "Wild Boy of
Aveyron, the arrest of development that results
when no help is received from parents and nurses.
Thus, in providing from day to day the right kind
of facts, prepared in the right manner, and giving
them in due abundance at appropriate intervals,
there is as much scope for active ministration to a
child's mind as to its body. In either case it is
the chief function of parents to see that the oondi-

PROVISION OF MENTAL NUTRIMENT. 115

tions requisite to growth are maintained. And, as
in supplying aliment, and clothing, and shelter,
they may fulfil this function without at all inter-
fering with the spontaneous development of the
limbs and viscera either in their order or mode ; so
they may supply sounds for imitation, objects for
examination, books for reading, problems for solu-
tion, and, if they use neither direct nor indirect
coercion, may do this without in any way disturb-
ing the normal process of mental evolution ; or
rather, may greatly facilitate that process. Hence
the admission of the doctrines enunciated does not,
as some might argue, involve the abandonment of
all teaching ; but leaves ample room for an active
and elaborate course of culture.

Passing from generalities to special considera-
tions it is to be remarked that in practice, the Pes-
talozzian system seems scarcely to have fulfilled the
promise of its theory. We hear of children not at
all interested in its lessons, — disgusted with them
rather ; and, so far as we can gather, the Pestaloz-
zian schools have not turned out any unusual pro-
portion of distinguished men, — if even they have
reached the average. We are not surprised at this.
The success of every appliance depends mainly upon
the intelligence with which it is used. It is a trite
remark, tiiat, having the choicest tools, an unskilful
artisan will botch his work ; and bad teachers will
fail even with the best methods. Indeed, the good-
ness of the method becomes in such case a cause of

116 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

failure ; as, to continue the simile, the perfection of
the tool becomes in undisciplined hands a source of
imperfection in results. A simple, unchanging,
almost mechanical routine of tuition may be carried
out by the commonest intellects, with such small
beneficial effect as it is capable of producing ; but
a complete system, — a system as heterogeneous in
its appliances as the mind in its faculties, — a system
proposing a special means for each special end, de-
mands for its right employment powers such as few
teachers possess. The mistress of a dame-school can
hear spelling-lessons ; any hedge-schoolmaster can
drill boys in the multiplication-table ; but to teach
spelling rightly by using the powers of the letters
instead of their names, or to instruct in numerical
combinations by experimental synthesis, a modicum
of understanding is needful : and to pursue a like
rational course throughout the entire range of
studies, asks an amount of judgment, of invention,
of intellectual sympathy, of analytical faculty,
which we shall never see applied to it while the
tutorial office is held in such small esteem. The
true education is practicable only to the true philos-
opher. Judge, then, what prospect a philosophical
method now has of being acted out ! Knowing so
little as we yet do of Psychology, and ignorant as
our teachers are of that little, what chance has a
system which requires Psychology for its basis ?

Further hindrance and discouragement has arisen
from confounding the Pestalozzian principle with
the forms in which it has been embodied. Because

PESTALOZZl's PRACTICE DEFECTIVE. 117

particular plans have not answered expectation,
discredit has been cast upon the doctrine associated
with them ; no inquiry being made whether these
plans truly conform to such doctrine. Judging as
usual by the concrete rather than the abstract, men
have blamed the theory for the bunglings of the
practice. It is as though Papin's futile attempt to
construct a steam-engine had been held to prove
that steam could not be used as a motive power.
Let it be constantly borne in mind that while right
in his fundamental ideas Pestalozzi was not there-
fore right in all his applications of them : and we
believe the fact to be that he was often wrong. As
described even by his admirers, Pestalozzi was a
man of partial intuitions, a man who had occasional
flashes of insight, rather than a man of systematic
thought. His first great success at Stantz was
achieved when he had no books or appliances of
ordinary teaching, and when " the only object of
his attention was to find out at each moment what
instruction his children stood peculiarly in need of,
and what was the best manner of connecting it with
the knowledge they already possessed." Much of
his power was due, not to calmly reasoned-out plans
of culture, but to his profound sympathy, which
gave him an instinctive perception of childish needs
and difficulties. He lacked the ability logically to
co-ordinate and develop the truths which he thus
from time to time laid hold of ; and had in great
measure to leave this to his assistants, Kruesi, Tob-
ler, Buss, Niederer, and Schmid. The result is that

118 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

in their details his own plans, and those vicariously
devised, contain numerous crudities and incon-
sistencies. His nursery-method, described in " The
Mother's Manual," beginning as it does with a
nomenclature of the different parts of the body, and
proceeding next to specify their relative positions,
and next their connexions, may be proved not at all
in accordance with the initial stages of mental evo-
lution. His process of teaching the mother tongue
by formal exercises in the meanings of words and
in the construction of sentences, is quite needless,
and must entail on the pupil loss of time, labour,
and happiness. His proposed mode of teaching
geography is utterly unpestalozzian. And often
where his plans are essentially sound they are either
incomplete or vitiated by some remnant of the old
regime. While, therefore, we would defend in its
entire extent the general doctrine which Pestalozzi
inaugurated, we think great evil likely to result from
an uncritical reception of his specific devices. That
tendency which mankind constantly exhibit to
canonize the forms and practices along with which
any great truth has been bequeathed to them, —
their liability to prostrate their intellects before the
prophet, and swear by his every word, — their prone-
ness to mistake the clothing of the idea for the idea
itself; renders it needful to insist strongly upon
(the distinction between the fundamental principle
of the Pestalozzian system, and the set of expedients
devised for its practice : and to suggest that while
the one may be considered as established, the other

TRUTH OF THE PESTALOZZIAN IDEA. 119

is probably nothing but an adumbration of the
normal course. Indeed, on looking at the state of
our knowledge we may be quite sure that this is
the case. Before our educational methods can be
made to harmonize in character and arrangement
with the faculties in their mode and order of unfold-
ing, it is first needful that we ascertain with some
completeness how the faculties do unfold. At pres-
ent our knowledge of the matter extends only to
a few general notions. These general notions must
be developed in detail, — must be transformed into
a multitude of specific propositions, before we can
be said to possess that science on which the art of
education must be based. And then when we have
definitely made out in what succession, and in what
combinations the mental powers become active, it
remains to choose out of the many possible ways of
exercising each of them that which best conforms
to its natural mode of action. Evidently, therefore,
it is not to be supposed that even our most advanced
modes of teaching are the right ones, or nearly the
right ones.

Bearing in mind then this distinction between
the principle and the practice of Pestalozzi, and in-
ferring from the grounds assigned that the last must
necessarily be very defective, the reader will rate at
its true worth the dissatisfaction with the system
which some have expressed ; and will see that the
due realization of the Pestalozzian idea remains
to be achieved. Should he argue, however, from
what has just been said that no such realization is

120 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

at present practicable, and that all effort ought to
be devoted to the preliminary inquiry ; we reply,
that though it is not possible for a scheme of culture
to be perfected either in matter or form until a ra-
tional Psychology has been established, it is possible,
with the aid of certain guiding principles, to make
empirical approximations towards a perfect scheme.
To prepare the way for further research we will
now specify these principles. Some of > them have
already been more or less distinctly implied in the
foregoing pages ; but it will be well here to state
them all in logical order.

1. That in education we should proceed from
the simple to the complex is a truth which has
always been to some extent acted upon ; not pro-
fessedly, indeed, nor by any means consistently.
The mind grows. Like all things that grow it pro-
gresses from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous ;
and a normal training system being an objective
counterpart of this subjective process, must exhibit
the like progression. Moreover, regarding it from
this point of view, we may see that this formula
has much wider applications than at first appears.
For its rationale involves not only that we should
proceed from the single to the combined in the
teaching of each branch of knowledge ; but that
we should do the like with knowledge as a whole.
As the mind, consisting at first of but few active
faculties ; has its later-completed faculties succes-
sively awakened, and ultimately comes to have all

ORDER OF MENTAL PROCEDURE. 121

its faculties in simultaneous action ; it follows that
our teaching should begin with but few subjects at
once, and successively adding to these, should finally
carry on all subjects abreast — that not only in its
details should education proceed from the simple to
the complex, but in its ensemble also.

2. To say that our lessons ought to start from
the concrete and end in the, abstract, may be con-
sidered as in part a repetition of the foregoing.
Nevertheless it is a maxim that needs to be stated :
if with no other view, then with the view of shew-
ing in certain cases what are truly the simple and
the complex. For unfortunately there has been
much misunderstanding on this point. General
formulas which men have devised to express groups
of details, and which have severally simplified their
conceptions by uniting many facts into one fact,
they have supposed must simplify the conceptions
of the child also ; quite forgetting that a generali-
zation is simple only in comparison with the whole
mass of particular truths it comprehends — that it is
more complex than any one of these truths taken
singly — that only after many of these single truths
have been acquired does the generalization ease the
memory and help the reason — and that to the child
not possessing these single truths it is necessarily a
mystery. Thus confounding two kinds of simplifi-
cation, teachers have constantly erred by setting
out with " first principles " : a proceeding essen-
tially, though not apparently, at variance with the
primary rule ; which implies that the mind should

122 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

be introduced to principles through the medium of
examples, and so should be led from the particular
to the general — from the concrete to the abstract.

3. The education of the child must accord both
in mode arid arrangement with the education of
mankind as considered historically ; or in other
words, the genesis of knowledge in the individual
must follow the same course as the genesis of knowl-
edge in the race. To M. Comte we believe society
owes the enunciation of this doctrine — a doctrine
which we may accept without committing ourselves
to his theory of the genesis of knowledge, either in
its causes or its order. In support of this doctrine
two reasons may be assigned, either of them suffi-
cient to establish it. One is deducible from the
law of hereditary transmission as considered in its
wider consequences. For if it be true that men
exhibit likeness to ancestry both in aspect and char-
acter— if it be true that certain mental manifesta-
tions, as insanity, will occur in successive members of
the same family at the same age — if, passing from
individual cases in which the traits of many dead
ancestors mixing with those of a few living ones
greatly obscure the law, we turn to national types,
and remark how the contrasts between them are
persistent from age to age — if we remember that
these respective types came from a common stock,
and that hence the present marked differences be-
tween them must have arisen from the action of
modifying circumstances upon successive genera-
tions who severally transmitted the accumulated

MENTAL GROWTH OF THE RACE. 123

effects to their descendants — if we find the differ-
ences to be now organic, so that the French child
grows into a French man even when brought np
among strangers — and if the general fact thus illus-
trated is true of the whole nature, intellect inclusive ;
then it follows that if there be an order in which
the human race has mastered its various kinds of
knowledge, there will arise in every child an apti-
tude to acquire these kinds of knowledge in the
same order. So that even were the order intrinsi-
cally indifferent, it would facilitate education to
lead the individual mind through the steps traversed
by the general mind. But the order is not intrin-
sically indifferent ; and hence the fundamental rea-
son why education should be a repetition of civili-
sation in little. It is alike provable that the his-
torical sequence was, in its main outlines, a neces-
sary one ; and that the causes which determined it
apply to the child as to the race. Not to specify
these causes in detail, it will suffice here to point
out that as the mind of humanity placed in the
midst of phenomena and striving to comprehend
them, has, after endless comparisons, speculations,
experiments, and theories, reached its present
knowledge of each subject by a specific route ; it
may rationally be inferred that the relationship be-
tween mind and phenomena is such as to prevent
this knowledge from being reached by any other
route ; and that as each child's mind stands in this
same relationship to phenomena, they can be acces-
sible to it only through the same route. Hence in

124 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

deciding upon the right method of education, an
inquiry into the method of civilisation will help to
guide us.

4. One of the conclusions to which such an in-
quiry leads is, that in each branch of instruction
we should proceed from the empirical to the rational.
A leading fact in human progress is, that every
science is evolved out of its corresponding art. It
results from the necessity we are under, both indi-
vidually and as a race, of reaching the abstract by
way of the concrete, that there must be practice and
an accruing experience with its empirical generali-
zations, before there can be science. Science is
organized knowledge ; and before knowledge can
be organized, some of it must first be possessed.
Every study, therefore, should have a purely exper-
imental introduction ; and only after an ample
fund of observations has been accumulated, should
reasoning begin. As illustrative applications of this
rule, we may instance tlie modern course of placing
grammar, not before language, but after it ; or the
ordinary custom of prefacing perspective by practi-
cal drawing. By and by further applications of it
will be indicated. '

5. A second corollary from the foregoing gen-
eral principle, and one which cannot be too strenu-
ously insisted upon, is, that in education the process
of self-development should be encouraged to the
fullest extent. Children should be led to make
their own investigations, and to draw their own in-
ferences. They should be told as little as possible,

PROGRESS BY SELF-INSTRUCTION. 125

and induced to discover as much as possible. Hu-
manity has progressed solely by self-instruction ;
and that to achieve the best results, each mind must
progress somewhat after the same fashion, is con-
tinually proved by the marked success of self-made
men. Those who have been brought up under the
ordinary school-drill, and have carried away with
them the idea that education is practicable only in
that style, will think it hopeless to make children
their own teachers. If, however, they will call to
mind that the all-important knowledge of surround-
ing objects which a child gets in its early years is
got without help — if they will remember that the
child is self-taught in the use of its mother tongue
— if they will estimate the amount of that experi-
ence of life, that out-of-school wisdom, which every
boy gathers for himself — if they will mark the
unusual intelligence of the uncared-for London
gamin, as shewn in all the directions in which his
faculties have been tasked — if further, they will
think how many minds have struggled up unaided,
not only through the mysteries of our irrationally-
planned curriculum,, but through hosts of other ob-
stacles besides ; they will find it a -not unreasonable
conclusion, that if the subjects be put before him in
right order and right form, any pupil of ordinary ca-
pacity will surmounfhis successive difficulties with
but little assistance. Who indeed can watch the
ceaseless observation, and inquiry, and inference go-
ing on in a child's mind, or listen to its acute remarks
on matters within the range of its faculties, without

J. 26 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

perceiving that these powers which it manifests, if
brought to bear systematically upon any studies
within the same range, would readily master them
without help ? This need for perpetual telling is
the result of our stupidity, not of the child's. We
drag it away from the facts in which it is interested,
and which it is actively assimilating of itself; we
put before it facts far too complex for it to under-
stand, and therefore distasteful to it ; finding that
it will not voluntarily acquire these facts, we
thrust them into its mind by force of threats and
punishment ; by thus denying the knowledge it
craves, and cramming it with knowledge it cannot
digest, we produce a morbid state of its faculties,
and a consequent disgust for knowledge in general ;
and when, as a result partly of the stolid indolence
we have brought on, and partly of still continued un-
fitness in its studies, the child can understand noth-
ing without explanation, and becomes a mere passive
recipient of our instruction, we infer that education
must necessarily be carried on thus. Having by our
method induced helplessness, we straightway make
the helplessness a reason for our method. Clearly
then the experience of pedagogues cannot rationally
be quoted against the doctrine we are defending. And
whoever sees this will see that we may safely follow
the method of nature throughout — may, by a skilful
ministration, make the mind as self-developing in its
later stages as it is in its earlier ones ; and that only
by doing this can we produce the highest power and
activity.

INSTINCTIVE DEMAND OF THE PLEASURABLE. 127

6. As a final test by which, to judge any plan
of culture, should come the question, — Does it create
a pleasurable excitement in the pupils ? When in
doubt whether a particular mode or arrangement is
or is not more in harmony with the foregoing princi-
ples than some other, we may safely abide by this
criterion. Even when, as considered theoretically,
the proposed course seems the best, yet if it produce
no interest, or less interest than another course, we
should relinquish it ; for a child's intellectual in-
stincts are more trustworthy than our reasonings.
In respect to the knowing faculties, we may confi-
dently trust in the general law, that under normal
conditions, healthful action is pleasurable, while
action which gives pain is not healthful. Though
at present very incompletely conformed to by the
emotional nature, yet by the intellectual nature, or
at least by those parts of it which the child exhibits,
this law is almost wholly conformed to. The re-
pugnances to this and that study which vex the
ordinary teacher, are not innate, but result from
his unwise system. Fellenberg says, " Experience
has taught me that indolence in young persons is so
directly opposite to their natural disposition to ac-
tivity, that unless it is the consequence of bad edu-
cation, it is almost invariably connected with some
constitutional defect." And the spontaneous activ
ity to which children are thus prone, is simply the
pursuit of those pleasures which the healthful exer-
cise of the faculties gives. It is true that some of
the higher mental powers as yet but little developed

128 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

in the race, and congenitally possessed in any con-
siderable degree only by the most advanced, are
indisposed to the amount of exertion required of
them. But these, in virtue of their very complexity,
will, in a normal course of culture, come last into
exercise, and will therefore have no demands made
upon them until the pupil has arrived at an age when
ulterior motives can be brought into play, and an in-
direct pleasure made to counterbalance a direct dis-
pleasure. With all faculties lower than these, how-
ever, the direct gratification consequent on activity is
the normal stimulus ; and under good management
the only needful stimulus. When we are obliged to
fall back upon some other, we must take the fact as
evidence that we are on the wrong track. Experience
is daily shewing with greater clearness that there is al-
ways a method to be found productive of interest —
even of delight ; and it ever turns out that this is the
method proved by all other tests to be the right one.
With most, these guiding principles will weigh
but little if left in this abstract form. Partly, there-
fore, to exemplify their application, and partly with
a view of making sundry specific suggestions, we
propose now to pass from the theory of education
to the practice of it.

It was the opinion of Pestalozzi — an opinion
which has ever since his day been gaining ground
— that education of some kind should begin from
the cradle. Whoever has watched with any dis-
cernment, the wide-eyed gaze of the infant at sur-

IT BEGINS IN INFANCY. 129

rounding objects, knows very well that educa-
tion does begin thus early, whether we intend
it or not ; and that these fingerings and suckings
of every thing it can lay hold of, these open-mouthed
listenings to every sound, are the first steps in the
series which ends in the discovery of unseen planets,
the invention of calculating engines, the production
of great paintings, or the composition of sympho-
nies and operas. This activity of the faculties from
the very first being spontaneous and inevitable, the
question is whether we shall supply in due variety
the materials on which they may exercise them-
selves ; and to the question so put, none but an
affirmative answer can be given. As before said,
however, agreement with Pestalozzi's theory does
not involve agreement with his practice ; and here
occurs a case in point. Treating of instruction in
spelling he says : —

" The spelling-book ought, therefore, to contain all the
sounds of the language, and these ought to be taught in every
family from the earliest infancy. The child who learns his
spelling-book ought to repeat them to the infant in the cradle,
before it is able to pronounce even one of them, so that they
may be deeply impressed upon its mind by frequent repeti-
tion."

Joining this with the suggestions for " a nursery-
method," as set down in his " Mother's Manual," in
which he makes the names, positions, connexions,
numbers, properties, and uses of the limbs and body
his first lessons, it becomes clear that Pestalozzi's

J30 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

notions on early mental development were too crude
to enable him to devise judicious plans. Let us in-
quire into the course which Psychology dictates.

The earliest impressions which the mind can as-
similate, are those given to it by the undecomposable
sensations — resistance, light, sound, &c. Manifest-
ly decomposable states of consciousness cannot exist
before the states of consciousness out of which they
are composed. There can be no idea of form until
some familiarity with light in its gradations and
qualities, or resistance in its different intensities, has
been acquired ; for, as has been long known, we rec-
ognize visible form by means of varieties of light,
and tangible form by means of varieties of resistance.
Similarly, no articulate sound is cognizable until
the inarticulate sounds which go to make it up
have been learned. And thus must it be in every
other case. Following, therefore, the necessary law
of progression from the simple to the complex, we
should provide for the infant a sufficiency of objects
presenting different degrees and kinds of resistance,
a sufficiency of objects reflecting different amounts
and qualities of light, and a sufficiency of sounds
contrasted in their loudness, their pitch and their
timbre. How fully this d priori conclusion is con-
firmed by infantile instincts all will see on being
reminded of the delight which every young child
has in biting its toys, in feeling its brother's bright
jacket-buttons, and pulling papa's whiskers — how
absorded it becomes in gazing at any gaudily
painted object, to which it applies the word

EAKLY CULTURE OF THE SENSES. 131

" pretty," when it can pronounce it, wholly in vir-
tue of the bright colours — and how its face broadens
into a laugh at the tattlings of its nurse, the snap-
ping of a visitor's fingers, or any sound which it has
not before heard. Fortunately, the ordinary prac-
tices of the nursery fulfil these early requirements
of education to a considerable degree. Much, how-
ever, remains to be done ; and it is of more impor-
tance that it should be done than at first appears.
Every faculty during the period of its greatest ac-
tivity— the period in which it is spontaneously
evolving itself — is capable of receiving more vivid
impressions than at any other period. Moreover,
as these simplest elements must eventually be mas-
tered, and as the mastery of them whenever achieved
must take time, it becomes an economy of time to
occupy this first stage of childhood, during which
no other intellectual action is possible, in gaining a
complete familiarity with them in all their modifica-
tions. Add to which, that both temper and health
will be improved by the continual gratification re-
sulting from a due supply of these impressions
which every child so greedily assimilates. Space,
could-it be spared, might here be well filled by some
suggestions towards a more systematic ministration
to these simplest of the perceptions. But it must
suffice to point out that any such ministration ought
to be based upon the general truth that in the de-
velopment of every faculty, markedly contrasted im-
pressions are the first to be distinguished : that hence
Bounds greatly differing in loudness and pitch, colours

132 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

very remote from each other, and substances widely
unlike in hardness or texture, should be the first sup-
plied ; and that in each case the progression must be
by slow degrees to impressions more nearly allied.

Passing on to object-lessons, which manifestly
form a natural continuation of this primary culture
of the senses, it is to be remarked, that the system
commonly pursued is wholly at variance with the
method of nature, as alike exhibited in infancy, in
adult life, and in the course of civilization. " The
child," says M. Marcel, " must be shewn how all
the parts of an object are connected, &c. ; " and the
various manuals of these object-lessons severally
contain lists of the facts which the child is to be
told respecting each of the things put before it.
Now it needs but a glance at the daily life of tli6
infant to see that all the knowledge of things which
is gained before the acquirement of speech, is self-
gained — that the qualities of hardness and weight
associated with certain visual appearances, the pos-
session of particular forms and colours by particular
persons, the production of special sounds by animals
of special aspects, are phenomena which it observes
for itself. In manhood too, when there are no longer
teachers at hand, the observations and inferences
required for daily guidance, must be made un-
helped ; and success in life depends upon the accu-
racy and completeness with which they are made.
Is it probable then, that while the process displayed
in the evolution of humanity at large, is repeated
alike by the infant and the man, a reverse process

THE CHILD'S DEMAND FOE SYMPATHY. 133

must be followed during the period between infancy
and manhood ? and that too, even in so simple a
thing as learning the properties of objects ? Is it
not obvious, on the contrary, that one method must
be pursued throughout ? And is not nature perpet-
ually thrusting this method upon us, if we had but
the wit to see it, and the humility to adopt it ?
What can be more manifest than the desire of chil-
dren for intellectual sympathy ? Mark how the
infant sitting on your knee thrusts into your face
the toy it holds, that you too may look at it. See
when it makes a creak with its wet finger on the
table, how it turns and looks at you ; does it again,
and again looks at you ; thus saying as clearly as
it can — " Hear this new sound." Watch how the
elder children come into the room exclaiming —
" Mamma, see what a curious thing," " Mamma,
look at this," " Mamma, look at that ; " and would
continue the habit, did not the silly mamma tell
them not to tease her. Observe how, when out with
the nurse-maid, each little one runs up to her with
the new flower it has gathered, to show her how
pretty it is, and to get her also, to say it is pretty.
Listen to the eager volubility with which every ur
chin describes any novelty he has been to see, if
only he can find some one who will attend with any
interest. Does not the induction lie on the surface ?
Is it not clear that we must conform our course to
these intellectual instincts — that we must just sys-
tematize the natural process — that we must listen
to all the child has to tell us about each object, must

134: INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

induce it to say every thing it can think of about
6uch object, must occasionally draw its attention to
facts it has not yet observed, with the view of lead-
ing it to notice them itself whenever they recur,
and must go on by and by to indicate or supply
new series of things for a like exhaustive examina-
tion ? See the way in which, on this method, the
intelligent mother conducts her lessons. Step by
step she familiarizes her little boy with the names
of the simpler attributes, hardness, softness, colour,
taste, size, &c, in doing which she finds him eagerly
help by bringing this to show her that it is red, and
the other to make her feel that it is hard, as fast as
she gives him words for these properties. Each
additional property, as she draws his attention to it
in some fresh thing which he brings her, she takes
care to mention in connexion with those he already
knows ; so that by the natural tendency to imitate,
he may get into the habit of repeating them one
after another. Gradually as there occur cases in
which he omits to name one or more of the proper-
ties he has become acquainted with, she introduces
the practice of asking him whether there is not
something more that he can tell her about the thing
he has got. Probably he does not understand.
After letting him puzzle awhile she tells him ; per-
haps laughing at him a little for his failure. A few
recurrences of this and he perceives what is to be
done. "When next she says she knows something
more about the object than he has told her, his pride
is roused ; he looks at it intently ; he thinks over

TRUE METHOD OF OBJECT-LESSONS. 135

all that he has heard ; and the problem being easy,
presently finds it out. He is full of glee at his suc-
cess, and she sympathizes with him. In common
with every child, he delights in the discovery of his
powers. He wishes for more victories, and goes in
quest of more things about which to tell her. As
his faculties unfold she adds quality after quality to
his list : progressing from hardness and softness to
roughness and smoothness, from colour to polish,
from simple bodies to composite ones — thus con-
stantly complicating the problem as he gains com-
petence, constantly taxing his attention and memory
to a greater extent, constantly maintaining his in-
terest by supplying him with new impressions such
as his mind can assimilate, and constantly gratifying
him by conquests over such small difficulties as he
can master. In doing this she is manifestly but
following out that spontaneous process that was
going on during a still earlier period — simply aiding
self-evolution ; and is aiding it in the mode sug-
gested by the boy's instinctive behavior to her.
Manifestly, too, the course she is pursuing is the one
best calculated to establish a habit of exhaustive
observation ; which is the professed aim of these
lessons. To tell a child this and to show it the other,
is not to teach it how to observe, but to make it a mere
recipient of another's observations : a proceeding
which weakens rather than strengthens its powers of
self-instruction — which deprives it of the pleasures
resulting from successful activity — which presents
this all-attractive knowledge under the aspect of for-

136 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

mal tuition — and which thus generates that indiffer-
ence and even disgust with which these object-lessons
are not unfrequently regarded. On the other hand,
to pursue the course above described is simply to
guide the intellect to its appropriate food ; to join
with the intellectual appetites their natural adjuncts
— amour propre and the desire for sympathy ; to in-
duce by the union of all these an intensity of attention
which insures perceptions alike vivid and complete ;
and to habituate the mind from the beginning to that
practice of self-help which it must ultimately follow.
Object-lessons should not only be carried on
after quite a different fashion from that commonly
pursued, but should be extended to a range of things
far wider, and continue to a period far later, than
now. They should not be limited to the contents
of the house ; but should include those of the fields
and the hedges, the quarry and the sea-shore. They
should not cease with early childhood ; but should
be so kept, up during youth as insensibly to merge
into the investigations of the naturalist and the man
of science. Here again we have but to follow na-
ture's leadings. Where can be seen an intenser de-
light than that of children picking up new flowers
and watching new insects, or hoarding pebbles and
shells ? And who is there but perceives that by
sympathizing with them they may be led on to any
extent of inquiry into the qualities and structures
of these things ? Every botanist who has had chil-
dren with him in the woods and the lanes must have
noticed how eagerly they joined in his pursuits, how

TRAINING THE OBSERVATION. 137

keenly they searched out plants for him, how in-
tently they watched whilst he examined them, how
they overwhelmed him with questions. The consist-
ent follower of Bacon — the " servant and interpre-
ter of nature," will see that we ought modestly to
adopt the course of culture thus indicated. Having
gained due familiarity with the simpler properties
of inorganic objects, the child should by the same
process be led on to a like exhaustive examination
of the things it picks up in its daily walks — the less
complex facts they present being alone noticed at
first : in plants, the colour, number, and forms of
the petals and shapes of the stalks and leaves : in
insects, the numbers of the wings, legs, and anten-
nae, and their colours. As these become fully ap-
preciated and invariably observed, further facts may
be successively introduced : in the one case, the
numbers of stamens and pistils, the forms of the
flowers, whether radial or bilateral in symmetry,
the arrangement and character of the leaves, whether
opposite or alternate, stalked or sessile, smooth or
hairy, serrated, toothed, or crenate ; in the other,
the divisions of the body, the segments of the ab-
domen, the markings of the wings, the number of
joints in the legs, and the forms of the smaller or-
gans— the system pursued throughout being that of
making it the child's ambition to say respecting
everything it finds, all that can be said. Then when
a fit age has been reached, the means of preserving
these plants which have become so interesting in
virtue of the knowledge obtained of them, may as

138 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

a great favour be supplied ; and eventually, as a
still greater favour, may also be supplied the appa-
ratus needful for keeping the larvae of our common
butterflies and moths through their transformations
— a practice which, as we can personally testify,
yields the highest gratification ; is continued with
ardour for years ; when joined with the formation
of an entomological collection, adds immense in-
terest to Saturday-afternoon rambles ; and forms an
admirable introduction to the study of physiology.
£""* We are quite prepared to hear from many that
all this is throwing away time and energy ; and that
children would be much better occupied in writing
their copies or learning their pence-tables, and so
fitting themselves for the business of life. We re-
gret that such crude ideas of what constitutes edu-
cation and such a narrow conception of utility, should
still be generally prevalent. Saying nothing on the
need for a systematic culture of the perceptions and
the value of the practices above inculcated as
subserving that need, we are prepared to defend
them even on the score of the knowledge gained.
If men are to be mere cits, mere porers over led-
gers, with no ideas beyond their trades — if it is well
that they should be as the cockney whose conception
of rural pleasures extends no further than sitting in
a tea-garden smoking pipes and drinking porter ; or
as the squire who thinks of woods as places for
shooting in, of uncultivated plants as nothing but
weeds, and who classifies animals into game, vermin,
fcnd stock — then indeed it is needless for men to

ENLARGED VIEWS OF IT8 IMPORT. 139

learn any thing that does not directly help to re-
plenish the till and till the larder. But if there is a
more worthy aim for us than to be drudges — if there
are other uses in the things around us than their
power to bring money — if there are higher faculties
to be exercised than acquisitive and sensual ones —
if the pleasures which poetry and art and science
and philosophy can bring are of any moment — then
is it desirable that the instinctive inclination which
every child shows to observe natural beauties and
investigate natural phenomena should be encour-
aged. But this gross utilitarianism which is con-
tent to come into the world and quit it again with-
out knowing what kind of a world it is or what it
contains, may be met on its own ground. It will
by and by be found that a knowledge of the laws
of life is more important than any other knowledge
whatever — that the laws of life include not only all
bodily and mental processes, but by implication all
the transactions of the house and the street, all com-
merce, all politics, all morals — and that therefore
without a due acquaintance with them neither per-
sonal nor social conduct can be rightly regulated.
It will eventually be seen too, that the laws of life
are essentially the same throughout the whole or-
ganic creation ; and further, that they cannot be
properly understood in their complex manifestations
until they have been studied in their simpler ones.
And when this is seen, it will be also seen that in
aiding the child to acquire the out-of-door informa-
tion for which it shews so great an avidity, and in

140 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

encouraging the acquisition of such information
throughout youth, we are simply inducing it to store
up the raw material for future organization — the
facts that will one day bring home to it with due
force those great generalizations of science by which
actions may be rightly guided.

The spreading recognition of drawing as an
element of education, is one amongst many signs
of the more rational views on mental culture now
beginning to prevail. Once more it may be re-
marked that teachers are at length adopting the
course which nature has for ages been pressing upon
their notice. The spontaneous efforts made by chil-
dren to represent the men, houses, trees, and animals
around them — on a slate if they can get nothing
better, or with lead-pencil on paper, if they can beg
them — are familiar to all. To be shown through a
picture-book is one of their highest gratifications ;
and as usual, their strong imitative tendency pres-
ently generates in them the ambition to make
pictures themselves also. This attempt to depict
the striking things they see is a further instinctive
exercise of the perceptions — a means whereby still
greater accuracy and completeness of observation
is induced. And alike by seeking to interest us in
their discoveries of the sensible properties of things,
and by their endeavours to draw, they solicit from
us just that kind of culture which they most need.

Had teachers been guided by nature's hints not
only in the making of drawing a part of education,
but in the choice of their modes of teaching it, they

DRAWING — EAKLY USE OF COLOURS. 141

would have done still better than they have done.
What is it that the child first tries to represent ?
Tilings that are large, things that are attractive in
colour, things round which its pleasurable associa-
tions most cluster — human beings from whom it has
received so many emotions, cows and dogs which
interest by the many phenomena they present,
houses that are hourly visible and strike by their
size and contrast of parts. And which of all the
processes of representation gives it most delight?
Colouring. Paper and pencil are- good in default
of something better ; but a box of paints and a
brush — these are the treasures. The drawing of
outlines immediately becomes secondary to colour-
ing— is gone through mainly with a view to the
colouring ; and if leave can be got to colour a book
of prints, how great is the favour ! Now, ridiculous
as such a position will seem to drawing-masters,
who postpone colouring and who teach form by a
dreary discipline of copying lines, we believe that
the course of culture thus indicated is the right one.
That priority of colour to form, which, as already
pointed out, has a psychological basis, and in virtue
of which psychological basis arises this strong pref-
erence in the child, should be recognized from the
very beginning ; and from the very beginning also
the things imitated should be real. That greater
delight in colour which is not only conspicuous in
children but persists in most persons throughout
life, should be continuously employed as the natural
stimulus to the mastery of the comparatively diffi-

142 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

cult and unattractive form — should be the prosper
tive reward for the achievement of form. And
these instinctive attempts to represent interesting
actualities should be all along encouraged ; in the
conviction that as, by a widening experience, smaller
and more practicable objects become interesting,
they too will be attempted ; and that so a gradual
approximation will be made towards imitations hav-
ing some resemblance to the realities. No matter
how grotesque the shapes produced : no matter how
daubed and glaring the colours. The question is
not whether the child is producing good drawings :
the question is, whether it is developing its faculties.
It has first to gain some command over its fingers,
some crude notions of likeness ; and this practice is
better than any other for these ends ; seeing that it
is the spontaneous and the interesting one. During
these early years, be it remembered, no formal
drawing-lessons are possible : shall we therefore re-
press, or neglect to aid, these efforts at self-culture ?
or shall we encourage and guide them as normal
exercises of the perceptions and the powers of manip-
ulation ? If by the supply of cheap woodcuts to
be coloured, and simple contour-maps to have their
boundary lines tinted, we can not only pleasurably
draw out the faculty of colour, but can incidentally
produce some familiarity with the outlines of things
and countries, and some ability to move the brush
steadily ; and if by the supply of temptingly-painted
objects we can keep up the instinctive practice of
making representations, however rough, it must

ERRONEOUS METHOD IN DRAWING. 143

happen that by the time drawing is commonly
commenced there will exist a facility that would
else have been absent. Time will have been gained ;
and trouble both to teacher and pupil, saved.

From all that has been said, it may be readily
inferred that we wholly disapprove of the practice
of drawing from copies ; and still more so of that
formal discipline in making straight lines and curved
lines and compound lines, with which it is the
fashion of some teachers to begin. We regret to
find that the Society of Arts has recently, in its
series of manuals on " Rudimentary Art-Instruc-
tion," given its countenance to an elementary draw-
ing-book, which is the most vicious in principle that
we have seen. We refer to the " Outline from Out-
line, or from the Flat," by John Bell, sculptor. As
expressed in the prefatory note, this publication
proposes " to place before the student a simple, yet
logical mode of instruction ; " and to this end sets
out with a number of definitions thus : —

u A simple line in drawing is a thin mark drawn from one
point to another.

" Lines may be divided, as to their nature in drawing, into
two classes : —

" 1. Straight, which are marks that go the shortest road
between two points, as A B.

" 2. Or Curved, which are marks which do not go the
■hortest road between two points, as C D."

And so the introduction progresses to horizontal
lines, perpendicular lines, oblique lines, angles of

144 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

the several kinds, and the various figures which
lines and angles make up. The work is, in short, a
grammar of form, with exercises. And thus the
system of commencing with a dry analysis of ele-
ments, which, in the teaching of language, has been
exploded, is to be re-instituted in the teaching of
drawing. The abstract is to be preliminary to the
concrete. Scientific conceptions are to precede em-
pirical experiences. That this is an inversion of the
normal order, we need scarcely repeat. It has been
well said concerning the custom of prefacing the
art of speaking any tongue by a drilling in the parts
of speech and their functions, that it is about as
reasonable as prefacing the art of walking by a
course of lessons on the bones, muscles, and nerves
of the legs ; and much the same thing may be said
of the proposal to preface the art of representing
objects by a nomenclature and definitions of the
lines which they yield on analysis. These techni-
calities are alike repulsive and needless. They ren-
der the study distasteful at the very outset ; and all
with the view of teaching that, which, in the course
of practice, will be learnt unconsciously. Just as
the child incidentally gathers the meanings of ordi-
nary words from the conversations going on around
it, without the help of dictionaries ; so, from the
remarks on objects, pictures, and its own drawings,
will it presently acquire, not only without effort but
even pleasurably, those same scientific terms, which,
if presented at first, are a mystery and a weariness.
If any dependence is to be placed upon the general

EARLY LESSONS IN PERSPECTIVE. 145

principles of education that have been laid down,
the process of learning to draw should be through-
out continuous with those efforts of early childhood
described above, as so worthy of encouragement.
By the time that the voluntary practice thus ini-
tiated has given some steadiness of hand, and some
tolerable ideas of proportion, there will have arisen
a vague notion of body as presenting its three di-
mensions in perspective. And when, after sundry
abortive, Chinese-like attempts to render this ap-
pearance on paper, there has grown up a pretty clear
perception of the thing to be achieved, and a desire
to achieve it, a first lesson in empirical perspective
may be given by means of the apparatus occasion-
ally used in explaining perspective as a science.
This sounds formidable ; but the experiment is both
comprehensive and interesting to any boy or girl
of ordinary intelligence. A plate of glass so framed
as to stand vertically on the table, being placed
before the pupil, and a book, or like simple object
laid on the other side of it, he is requested, whilst
keeping the eye in one position, to make ink dots
upon the glass, so that they may coincide -with, or
hide the corners of this object. He is then told to
join these dots by lines ; on doing which he per-
ceives that the lines he makes hide, or coincide with,
the outlines of the object. And then on being asked
to put a sheet of paper on the other side of the glass,
he discovers that the lines he has thus drawn repre-
sent the object as he saw it. They not only look
like it, but he perceives that they must be like it,

146 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

because he made them agree with its outlines ; and
by removing the paper he can repeatedly convince
himself that they do agree with its outlines. -AThe
fact is new and striking ; and serves him as an
experimental demonstration, that lines of certain
lengths, placed in certain directions on a plane, can
represent lines of other lengths, and having other
directions in space. Subsequently, by gradually
changing the position of the object, he may be led
to observe how some lines shorten and disappear,
whilst others come into sight and lengthen. The
convergence of parallel lines, and, indeed, all the
leading facts of perspective may, from time to time,
be similarly illustrated to him. If he has been duly
accustomed to self-help, he will gladly, when it is
suggested, make the attempt to draw one of these out-
lines upon paper, by the eye only ; and it may soon
be made an exciting aim to produce, unassisted, a
representation, as like as he can, to one subsequently
sketched on the glass. Thus, without the unintelli-
gent, mechanical practice of copying other drawings,
but by a method at once simple and attractive —
rational, yet not abstract, a familiarity with the
linear appearances of things, and a faculty of ren-
dering them, may be, step by step, acquired. To
which advantages add these : — that even thus early
the pupil learns, almost unconsciously, the true
theory of a picture — namely, that it is a delineation
of objects as they appear when projected on a plane
placed between them and the eye ; and that when
he reaches a lit age for commencing scientific per-

PRIMARY LESS0N8 IN GEOMETRY. 147

Bpective he is already thoroughly acquainted with
the facts which form its logical basis.

As exhibiting a rational mode of communicating
primary conceptions in geometry, we cannot do
better than quote the following passage from Mr.
Wyse : —

" A child has been in the habit of using cubes for arithme-
tic ; let him use them also for the elements of geometry. I
would begin with solids, the reverse of the usual plan. It
saves all the difficulty of absurd definitions, and bad explana-
tions on points, lines, and surfaces, which are nothing but ab-
stractions. ... A cube presents many of the principal
elements of geometry ; it at once exhibits points, straight
lines, parallel lines, augles, parallelograms, &c, &c. These
cubes are divisible into various parts. The pupil has already
been familiarized with such divisions in numeration, and he
now proceeds to a comparison of their several parts, and of
the relation of these parts to each other. . . . From thence
he advances to globes, which furnish him with elementary
notions of the circle, of curves generally, &c, &c.

" Being tolerably familiar with solids, ho may now sub-
stitute planes. The transition may be made very easy. Let
the cube, for instance, be cut into thin divisions, and placed
on paper ; he will then see as many plane rectangles as ho
has divisions ; so with all the others. Globes may be treated
in the same manner ; he will thus see how surfaces really are
generated, and be enabled to abstract them with facility in
every solid.

" He has thus acquired the alphabet and reading of geom-
etry. He now proceeds to write it.

" The simplest operation, and therefore tho first, is merely
to place these planes on a piece of paper, and pass the pencil
round them. When this has been frequently done, the plane
may be put at a little distance, and the child required to copy
it, and so on."

148 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

A stock of geometrical conceptions having been
obtained, in some such manner as this recom-
mended by Mr. Wyse, a further step may, in course
of time, be taken, by introducing the practice of
testing the correctness of all figures drawn by the
eye ; thus alike exciting an ambition to make them
exact, and continually illustrating the difficulty of
fulfilling that ambition. There can be little doubt
that geometry had its origin (as, indeed, the word
implies) in the methods discovered by artisans and
others, of making accurate measurement for the
foundations of buildings, areas of inclosures, and
the like ; and that its truths came to be treasured
up, merely with a view to their immediate utility.
They should be introduced to the pupil under anal-
ogous relationships. In the cutting out of pieces
for his card-houses, in the drawing of ornamental
diagrams for colouring, and in those various instruc-
tive occupations which an inventive teacher will
lead him into, he may be for a length of time ad-
vantageously left, like the primitive builder, to
tentative processes ; and will so gain an abundant
experience of the difficulty of achieving his aims
by the unaided senses. When, having meanwhile
undergone a valuable discipline of the perceptions,
he has reached a fit age for using a pair of compass-
es, he will, whilst duly appreciating these as ena-
bling him to verify his ocular guesses, be still hin-
dered by the difficulties of the approximative method.
In this stage he may be left for a further period :
partly as being yet too young for anything higher ;

TRAINING THE CONSTRUCTIVE POWERS. 149

partly because it is desirable that he should be made
to feel still more strongly the want of systematic
contrivances. If the acquisition of knowledge is to
be made continuously interesting ; and if, in the
early civilization of the child, as in the early civili-
zation of the race, science becomes attractive only
as ministering to art ; it is manifest that the proper
preliminary to geometry is a long practice in those
constructive processes which geometry will facilitate.
Observe that here, too, nature points the way. Al-
most invariably, children show a strong propensity
to cut out things in paper, to make, to build — a
propensity which, if duly encouraged and directed,
will not only prepare the way for scientific concep-
tions, but will develop those powers of manipula-
tion in which most people are so deficient.

When the observing and inventive faculties
have attained the requisite power, the pupil may
be introduced to empirical geometry ; that is —
geometry dealing with methodical solutions, but
not with the demonstrations of them. Like all
other transitions in education, this should be made
not formally but incidentally ; and the relationship
to constructive art should still be maintained. To
make a tetrahedron in cardboard, like one given to
him, is a problem which will alike interest the
pupil, and serve as a convenient starting-point. In
attempting this, he finds it needful to draw four
equilateral triangles arranged in special positions.
Being unable in the absence of an exact method to
do this accurately he discovers on putting the tri-

150 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

angles into their respective positions, that he can
not make their sides fit, and that their angles do
not properly meet at the apex. He may now be
shown how by describing a couple of circles, each
of these triangles may be drawn with perfect cor-
rectness and without guessing ; and after his failure
he will duly value the information. Having thus
helped him to the solution of his first problem,
with the view of illustrating the nature of geomet-
rical methods, he is in future to be left altogether
to his own ingenuity in solving the questions put
to him. To bisect a line, to erect a perpendicular,
to describe a square, to bisect an angle, to draw a
line parallel to a given line, to describe a hexagon,
are problems which a little patience will enable him
to find out. And from these he may be led on
step by step to questions of a more complex kind ;
all of which, under judicious management, he will
puzzle through unhelped. Doubtless, many of
those brought up under the old regime, will look
upon this assertion sceptically. We speak from
facts, however, and those neither few nor special.
"We have seen a class of boys become so interested
in making out solutions to these problems, as to
look forward to their geometry-lesson as a chief
event of the week. Within the last month, we
have been told of one girls' school, in which some
of the young ladies voluntarily occupy themselves
with geometrical questions out of school-hours ; and
of another, in which they not only do this, but in
which one of them is begging for problems to find

HOW GEOMETRY IS MADE ATTRACTIVE. 151

out during the holidays — both which facts we state
on the authority of the teacher. There could in-
deed be no stronger proofs than are thus afforded
of the practicability and the immense advantage of
self-development. A branch of knowledge which
as commonly taught is dry and even repulsive,
may, by following the method of nature, be made
extremely interesting and profoundly beneficial.
We say profoundly beneficial, because the effects
are not confined to the gaining of geometrical facts,
but often revolutionize the whole state of mind.
It has repeatedly occurred, that those who have
been stupefied by the ordinary school-drill — by its
abstract formulas, by its wearisome tasks, by its
cramming — have suddenly had their intellects
roused, by thus ceasing to make them passive
recipients, and inducing them to become active
discoverers. The discouragement brought about
by bad teaching having been diminished by a little
sympathy, and sufficient perseverance induced to
achieve a first success, there arises a revulsion of
feeling affecting the whole nature. They no longer
find themselves incompetent ; they too can do
something. And gradually as success follows suc-
cess, the incubus of despair disappears, and they
attack the difficulties of their other studies with
a courage that insures conquest.

This empirical geometry which presents an end-
less series of problems, and should be continued
along with other studies for years, may throughout
be advantageously accompanied by those concrete

r

152 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

applications of its principles which serve as its pre-
liminary. After the cube, the octahedron, and the
various forms of pyramid and prism have been
mastered, may come the more complex regular
bodies — the dodecahedron, and the icosahedron —
to construct which out of single pieces of cardboard
requires considerable ingenuity. From these, the
transition may naturally be made to such modified
forms of the regular bodies as are met with in crys-
tals— the truncated cube, the cube with its dihedral
as well as its solid angles truncated, the octahedron
and the various prisms as similarly modified ; in
imitating which numerous forms assumed by differ-
ent metals and salts, an acquaintance with the
leading facts of mineralogy will be incidentally
gained. After long continuance in exercises of
this kind, rational geometry, as may be supposed,
presents no obstacles. Constantly habituated to
contemplate relationships of form and quantity, and
vaguely perceiving from time to time the necessity
of certain results as reached by certain means, the
pupil comes to regard the demonstrations of Eu-
clid as the missing supplements to his familiar
problems. His well-disciplined faculties enable
him easily to master its successive propositions, and
to appreciate their value ; and he has the occasional
gratification of finding some of his own methods
proved to be true. Thus he enjoys what is to the
unprepared a dreary task. It only remains to add,
that his mind will presently arrive at a fit condition
for that most valuable of all exercises for the re*

COURSE OF THE NATURAL METHOD. 153

flective faculties — the making of original demon-
strations. Such theorems as those appended to the
successive books of the Messrs. 'Chambers' Euclid,
will soon become practicable to him ; and in prov-
ing them the process of self-development will be
not intellectual only, but moral.

To continue much further these suggestions
would be to write a detailed treatise on education,
which we do not purpose. The foregoing outlines
of plans for exercising the perceptions in early
childhood for conducting object-lessons for teaching
drawing and geometry, must be considered as
roughly-sketched illustrations of the method dic-
tated by the general principles previously specified.
We believe that on examination they will be found
not only to progress from the simple to the complex,
from the concrete to the abstract, from the empirical
to the rational ; but to satisfy the further require-
ments that education shall be a repetition of civiliza-
tion in little, that it shall be as much as possible a
process of self-evolution, and that it shall be pleas-
urable. That there should be one type of method
capable of satisfying all these conditions, tends alike
to verify the conditions, and to prove that type of
method the right one. And when we add that this
method is the logical outcome of the tendency,
characterizing all modern systems of instruction —
that it is but an adoption in full of the method of
nature which they adopt partially — that it displays
this complete adoption of the method of nature, not
only by conforming to the above principles, but by

154: INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

following the suggestions which the unfolding mind
itself gives, facilitating its spontaneous activities,
and so aiding the developments which nature is
busy with — when we add this, there seems abun-
dant reason to conclude, that the mode of procedure
above exemplified, closely approximates to the true
one.

A few paragraphs must be appended in further
inculcation of the two general principles, alike the
most important and the least attended to : we mean
the principle that throughout youth, as in early
childhood and in maturity, the process shall be one
of self-instruction ; and the obverse principle, that
the mental action induced by this process shall be
throughout intrinsically grateful. If progression from
simple to complex, and from concrete to abstract, be
considered the essential requirements as dictated by
abstract psychology, then do these requirements
that knowledge shall be self-mastered, and pleasur-
ably mastered, become the tests by which we may
judge whether the dictates of abstract psychology
are being fulfilled. If the first embody the leading
generalizations of the science of mental growth, the
last are the chief canons of the art of fostering men-
tal growth. For manifestly if the steps in our
curriculum are so arranged that they can be suc-
cessively ascended by the pupil himself with little
or no help, they must correspond with the stages
of evolution in his faculties ; and manifestly if the
6iiccessive achievements of these steps are intrinsi-

ADVANTAGES OF SELF-EVOLUTION. 155

cally gratifying to him, it follows that they require
no more than a normal exercise of his powers.

But the making education a process of self-
evolution has other advantages than this of keeping
our lessons in the right order. In the first place, it
guarantees a vividness and permanency of impres-
sion which the usual methods can never produce.
Any piece of knowledge which the pupil has him-
self acquired, any problem which he has himself
solved, becomes by virtue of the conquest much
more thoroughly his than it could else be. The
preliminary activity of mind which his success im-
plies, the concentration of thought necessary to it,
and the excitement consequent on his triumph, con-
spire to register all the facts in his memory in a
way that no mere information heard from a teacher,
or read in a school-book, can be registered. Even
if he fails, the tension to which his faculties have
been wound up insures his remembrance of the
solution when given to him, better than half a
dozen repetitions would. Observe again, that this
discipline necessitates a continuous organization of
the knowledge he acquires. It is in the very
nature of facts and inferences, assimilated in this
normal manner, that they successively become the
premisses of further conclusions, — the means of
solving still further questions. The solution of
yesterday's problem helps the pupil in master-
ing to-day's. Thus the knowledge is turned into
faculty as soon as it is taken in, and forthwith aids
in the general function of thinking — does not lie

156 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

merely written in the pages of an internal library,
as when rote-learnt. Mark further, the impor-
tance of the moral culture which this constant self-
help involves. Courage in attacking difficulties,
patient concentration of the attention, perseverance
through failures — these are characteristics which
after-life specially requires ; and these are charac-
teristics which this system of making the mind
work for its food specially produces. That it is
thoroughly practicable to carry out instruction after
this fashion we can ourselves testify ; having been
in youth thus led to successively solve the com-
paratively complex problems of Perspective. And
that leading teachers have been gradually tending
in this direction is indicated alike in the saying of
Fellenberg, that " the individual, independent ac-
tivity of the pupil is of much greater importance
than the ordinary busy officiousness of many who
assume the office of educators ; " in the opinion
of Horace Mann, that " unfortunately education
amongst us at present consists too much in telling,
not in training ; " and in the remark of M. Marcel,
that " what the learner discovers by mental exer-
tion is better known than what is told to him."

Similarly with the correlative requirement, that
the method of culture pursued shall be one produc-
tive of an intrinsically happy activity, — an activity
not happy in virtue of extrinsic rewards to be ob-
tained, but in virtue of its own healthfulness. Con-
formity to this requirement not only guards us
against thwarting the normal process of evolution,

PROMOTED BY PLEASURABLE FEELING. 157

but incidentally secures positive benefits of im-
portance. Unless we are to return to an ascetic
morality, the maintenance of youthful happiness
must be considered as in itself a worthy aim. Not
to dwell upon this, however, we go on to remark
that a pleasurable state of feeling is far more favour-
able to intellectual action than one of indifference
or disgust. Every one knows that things read,
heard, or seen with interest, are better remembered
than those read, heard, or seen with apathy. In
the one case the faculties appealed to are actively
occupied with the subject presented ; in the other
they are inactively occupied with it ; and the atten-
tion is continually drawn away after more attractive
thoughts. Hence the impressions are respectively
strong and weak. Moreover, the intellectual list-
lessness which a pupil's lack of interest in any study
involves, is further complicated by his anxiety, by
his fear of consequences, which distract his attention,
and increase the difficulty he finds in bringing his
faculties to bear upon these facts that are repugnant
to them. Clearly, therefore, the efficiency of any
intellectual action will, other things equal, be pro-
portionate to the gratification with which it is per-
formed.

It should be considered also, that impor-
tant moral consequences depend upon the habitual
pleasure or pain which daily lessons produce. No
one can compare the faces and manners of two boys
— the one made happy by mastering interesting
subjects, and the other made miserable by disgust

158 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

with his studies, by consequent failure, by cold
looks, by threats, by punishment — without seeing
that the disposition of the one is being benefited,
and that of the other greatly injured. Whoever
has marked the effect of intellectual success upon
the mind, and the power of the mind over the
body, will see that in the one case both temper and
health are favourably affected ; whilst in the other
there is danger of permanent moroseness, of per-
manent timidity, and even of permanent constitu-
tional depression. To all which considerations we
must add the further one, that the relationship be-
tween teachers and their pupils is, other things
equal, rendered friendly and influential, or antag-
onistic and powerless, according as the system of
culture produces happiness or misery. Human
beings are at the mercy of their associated ideas.
A daily minister of pain cannot fail to be regarded
with a secret dislike, and if he causes no emotions
but painful ones, will inevitably be hated. Con-
versely, he who constantly aids children to their
ends, hourly provides them with the satisfactions
of conquest, hourly encourages them through their
difficulties and sympathizes in their successes, can-
not fail to be liked ; nay, if his behaviour is con-
sistent throughout, must be loved. And when we
remember how efficient and benign is the control
of a master who is felt to be a friend, when com-
pared with the control of one who is looked upon
with aversion, or at best indifference, we may infer
that the indirect advantages of conducting educa-

SELF-CULTURE SELF-PERPETUATING 159

tion on the happiness principle do not fall far short
of the direct ones. To all who question the possi-
bility of acting out the system here advocated, we
reply as before, that not only does theory point to
it, but experience commends it. To the many ver-
dicts of distinguished teachers who since Pestalozzi's
time have testified this, may be here added that of
Professor Pillans, who asserts that " where young
people are taught as they ought to be, they are
quite as happy in school as at play, seldom less
delighted, nay, often more, with the well-directed
exercise of their mental energies, than with that of
their muscular powers."

As suggesting a final reason for making educa-
tion a process of self-instruction, and by conse-
quence a process of pleasurable instruction, we may
advert to the fact that, in proportion as it is made
so, is there a probability that education will not
cease when school-days end. As long as the ac-
quisition of knowledge is rendered habitually re-
pugnant, so long will there be a prevailing tendency
to discontinue it when free from the coercion of
parents and masters. And when the acquisition of
knowledge has been rendered habitually gratifying,
then will there be as prevailing a tendency to con-
tinue, without superintendence, that same self-culture
previously carried on under superintendence. These
results are inevitable. While the laws of mental
association remain true — while men dislike the
things and places that suggest painful recollec-
tions, and delight in those which call to mind by-

160 INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.

gone pleasures — painful lessons will make knowl»
edge repulsive, and pleasurable lessons will make it
attractive. The men to whom in boyhood informa-
tion came in dreary tasks along with threats of
punishment, and who were never led into habits of
independent inquiry, are unlikely to be students in
after years ; while those to whom it came in the
natural forms, at the proper times, and who remem-
ber its facts as not only interesting in themselves,
but as the occasions of a long series of gratifying
successes, are likely to continue through life that
self-instruction commenced in youth.

CHAPTER III.

MORAL EDUCATION.

Strangely enough, the most glaring defect in
our programmes of education is entirely overlooked.
While much is being done in the detailed improve-
ment of our systems in respect both of matter and
manner, the most pressing desideratum has not yet
been even recognised as a desideratum. To prepare
the young for the duties of life is tacitly admitted
by all to be the end which parents and school-
masters should have in view ; and happily the value
of the things taught, and the goodness of the meth-
od followed in teaching them, are now ostensibly
judged by their fitness to this end. The propriety
of substituting for an exclusively classical training
a training in which the modern languages shall
have a share, is argued on this ground. The neces-
sity of increasing the amount of science is urged
for like reasons. But though some care is taken to
fit youth of both sexes for society and citizenship,
no care whatever is taken to fit them for the still
more important position they will ultimately have
to fill — the position of parents. While it is seen
that for the purpose of gaining a livelihood, an
elaborate preparation is needed, it appears to be

162 MORAL EDUCATION.

thought that for the bringing up of children, no
preparation whatever is needed. While many years
are spent by a boy in gaining knowledge, of which
the chief value is that it constitutes ' the education
of a gentleman ; ' and while many years are spent
by a girl in those decorative acquirements which
fit her for evening parties ; not an hour is spent by
either of them in preparation for that gravest of all
responsibilities — the management of a family. Is
it that this responsibility is but a remote contin-
gency ? On the contrary, it is certain to devolve
on nine out of ten. Is it that the discharge of
it is easy ? Certainly not : of all functions which
the adult has to fulfil this is the most difficult. Is
it that each may be trusted by self-instruction to fit
himself, or herself, for the office of parent ? No :
not only is the need for such self-instruction unrecog-
nised, but the complexity of the subject renders it
the one of all others in which self-instruction is least
likely to succeed. No rational plea can be put for-
ward for leaving the Art of Education out of our
curriculum. Whether as bearing upon the happi-
ness of parents themselves, or whether as affecting
the characters and lives of their children and re-
mote descendants, we must admit that a knowledge
of the right methods of juvenile culture, physical,
intellectual, and moral, is a knowledge second to
none in importance. This topic should occupy the
highest and last place in the course of instruction
passed through by each man and woman. As
physical maturity is marked by the ability to pro*

NEGLECT OF THE SUBJECT. 163

duce offspring, so mental maturity is marked by the
ability to train those offspring. The subject which
involves all other subjects, and therefore the subject
in which the education of every one should culminate^
is the Theory and Practice of Education.

In the absence of this preparation, the manage-
ment of children, and more especially the moral
management, is lamentably bad. Parents either
never think about the matter at all, or else their
conclusions are crude and inconsistent. In most
cases, and especially on the part of mothers, the
treatment adopted on every occasion is that which
the impulse of the moment prompts : it springs not
from any reasoned-out conviction as to what will
most conduce to the child's welfare, but merely ex-
presses the passing parental feelings, whether good
or ill ; and varies from hour to hour as these feel-
ings vary. Or if these blind dictates of passion
are supplemented by any definite doctrines and
methods, they are those that have been handed
-down from the past, or those suggested by the re-
membrances of childhood, or those adopted from
nurses and servants — methods devised not by the
enlightenment, but by the ignorance of the time.
Commenting on the chaotic state of opinion and
practice relative to family government, Richter
writes : —

" If the secret variances of a large class of ordinary fathers
were brought to light, and laid down as a plan of studies, and
reading catalogued for a moral education, they would run
m inic what after this fashion : — In the first hour ' pure morality

164: MORAL EDUCATION.

must be read to the child, either by myself or the tutor ; * in
the second, ' mixed morality, or that which may be applied to
one's own advantage ; ' in the third, • do you not see that your
father does so and so ? ' in the fourth, ' you are little, and this
is only fit for grown-up people ; ' in the fifth, ' the chief matter
is that you should succeed in the world, and become some-
thing in the state ; ' in the sixth, ' not the temporary, but
the eternal, determines the worth of a man ; ' in the seventh,
' therefore rather suffer injustice, and be kind ; ' in the eighth,
' but defend yourself bravely if any one attack you ; ' in the
ninth, ' do not make a noise, dear child ; ' in the tenth, ' a boy
must not sit so quiet ; ' in the eleventh, ' you must obey your
parents better ; ' in the twelfth, ' and educate yourself.' So
by the hourly change of his principles, the father conceals
their untenableness and onesidedness. As for his wife, she is
neither like him, nor yet like that harlequin who came on to
the stage with a bundle of papers under each arm, and an-
swered to the inquiry, what he had under his right arm,
' orders,' and to what he had under his left arm, ' counter-
orders.' But the mother might be much better compared to a
giant Briareus, who had a hundred arms, and a bundle of
papers under each."

This state of things is not to be readily changed.
Generations must pass before any great amelioration
of it can be expected. Like political constitutions,
educational systems are not made, but grow ; and
within brief periods growth is insensible. Slow,
however, as must be any improvement, even that
improvement implies the use of means ; and among
the means is discussion.

"We are not among those who believe in Lord
Palmerston's dogma, that " all children are born

IT8 LIMITS AND DIFFICULTIES. 165

good." On the whole, the opposite dogma, unten-
able as it is, seems to us less wide of the truth.
Nor do we agree with those who think that, by
skilful discipline, children may be made altogether
what they should be. Contrariwise, we are satisfied
that though imperfections of nature may be di-
minished by wise management, they cannot be re-
moved by it. The notion that an ideal humanity
might be forthwith produced by a perfect system
of education, is near akin to that shadowed forth in
the poems of Shelley, that would mankind give up
their old institutions, prejudices, and errors, all the
evils in the world would at once disappear : neither
notion being acceptable to such as have dispassion-
ately studied human affairs.

Not that we are without sympathy with those
who entertain these too sanguine hopes. Enthu-
siasm, pushed even to fanaticism, is a useful motive-
power — perhaps an indispensable one. It is clear
that the ardent politician would never undergo the
labours and make the sacrifices he does, did he not
believe that the reform he fights for is the one thing
needful. But for his conviction that drunkenness
is the root of almost all social evils, the teetotaller
would agitate far less energetically. In philan-
thropy as in other things great advantage results
from division of labour ; and that there may be
division of labour, each class of philanthropists
must be more or less subordinated to its function —
must have an exaggerated faith in its work. Hence,
of those who regard education, intellectual or moral,

166 MORAL EDUCATION.

as the panacea, we may say that their undue ex-
pectations are not without use ; and that perhaps it
is part of the beneficent order of things that their
confidence cannot be shaken.

Even were it true, however, that by some pos-
sible system of moral government children could
be moulded into the desired form ; and even could
every parent be duly indoctrinated with this sys-
tem ; we should still be far from achieving the
object in view. It is forgotten that the carrying
out of any such system presupposes, on the part of
adults, a degree of intelligence, of goodness, of self-
control, possessed by no one. The great error made
by those who discuss questions of juvenile disci-
pline, is in ascribing all the faults and difficulties
to the children, and none to the parents. The
current assumption respecting family government,
as respecting national government, is, that the
virtues are with the rulers and the vices with
the ruled. Judging by educational theories, men
and women are entirely transfigured in the do-
mestic relation. The citizens we do business with,
the people we meet in the world, we all know to be
very imperfect creatures. In the daily scandals, in
the quarrels of friends, in bankruptcy disclosures,
in lawsuits, in police reports, we have constantly
thrust before us the pervading selfishness, dishon-
esty, brutality. Yet when we criticise nursery
management, and canvass the misbehaviour of ju*
veniles, we habitually take for granted that these
culpable men and women are free from moral de-

DEFICIENCIES OF PARENTS. 167

Jinquency in the treatment of their offspring ! So
far is this from the truth, that we do not hesitate to
say that to parental misconduct is traceable a great
part of the domestic disorder commonly ascribed to
the perversity of children. We do not assert this
of the more sympathetic and self restrained, among
whom we hope most of our readers may be classed,
but we assert it of the mass. What kind of moral
discipline is to be expected from a mother who,
time after time, angrily shakes her infant because
it will not suckle her, which we once saw a mother
do ? How much love of justice and generosity is
likely to be instilled by a father who, on having his
attention drawn by his child's scream to the fact
that its finger is jammed between the window sash
and the sill, forthwith begins to beat the child in-
stead of releasing it? Yet that there are such
fathers is testified to us by an eye-witness. Or, to
take a still stronger case, also vouched for by direct
testimony — what are the educational prospects of
the boy who, on being taken home with a dislocated
thigh, is saluted with a castigation ? It is true that
these are extreme instances — instances exhibiting
in human beings that blind instinct which impels
brutes to destroy the weakly and injured of their
own race. But extreme thougli they are, they
typify feelings and conduct daily observable in
many families. Who has not repeatedly seen a
child slapped by nurse or parent for a fretfulness
probably resulting from bodily derangement ? Who,
when watching a mother snatch up a fallen little

168 MORAL EDUCATION.

one, has not often traced, both in the rough man-
ner and in the sharply-uttered exclamation — ' You
stupid little thing ! ' — an irascibility foretelling
endless future squabbles ? Is there not in the harsh
tones in which a father bids his children be quiet,
evidence of a deficient fellow-feeling with them ?
Are not the constant, and often quite needless,
thwartings that the young experience — the injunc-
tions to sit still, which an active child cannot obey
without suffering great nervous irritation, the com-
mands not to look out of the window when travel-
ling by railway, which on a child of any intelli-
gence entails serious deprivation — are not these
thwartings, we ask, signs of a terrible lack of sym-
pathy ? The truth is, that the difficulties of moral
education are necessarily of dual origin — necessar-
ily result from the combined faults of parents and
children. If hereditary transmission is a law of
nature, as every naturalist knows it to be, and as
our daily remarks and current proverbs admit it to
be ; then on the average of cases, the defects of
children mirror the defects of their parents ; — on the
average of cases, we say, because, complicated as
the results are by the transmitted traits of remoter
ancestors, the correspondence is not special but
only general. And if, on the average of cases, this
inheritance of defects exists, then the evil passions
which parents have to check in their children imply
like evil passions in themselves : hidden, it may be,
from the public eye ; or perhaps obscured by other
feelings ; but still there. Evidently, therefore, the

MUST DEPEND UPON GENERAL IMPROVEMENT. 169

geDeral practice of any ideal system of discipline is
hopeldss : parents are not good enough.

Moreover, even were there methods by which
the desired end could he at once effected, and even
had fathers and mothers sufficient insight, sym-
pathy, and self-command to employ these methods
consistently, it might still he contended that it
would be of no use to reform family discipline faster
than other things are reformed. What is it that
we aim to do ? Is it not that education of what-
ever kind has for its proximate end to prepare a
child for the business of life — to produce a citizen
who, at the same time that he is well conducted, is
also able to make his way in the world ? And does
not making his way in the world (by which we
mean, not the acquirement of wealth, but of the
means requisite for properly bringing up a family)
— does not this imply a certain fitness for the world
as it now is ? And if by any system of culture an
ideal human being could be produced, is it not
doubtful whether he would be fit for the world as
it now is ? May we not, on the contrary, suspect
that his too keen sense of rectitude, and too elevated
standard of conduct, would make life alike intoler-
able and impossible ? And however admirable the
results might be, considered individually, would it
not be self-defeating in so far as society and poster-
ity are concerned ? It may, we think, be argued
with much reason, that as in a nation so in a fam-
ily, the kind of government is, on the whole, about
as good as the general state of human nature per*

170 MORAL EDUCATION.

mits it to be. It may be said that in the one case,
as in the other, the average character of the people
determines the quality of the control exercised. It
may be inferred that in both cases amelioration of
the average character leads to an amelioration of
system ; and further, that were it possible to ame-
liorate the system without the average character
being first ameliorated, evil, rather than good,
would follow. It may be urged that such degree
of harshness as children now experience from their
parents and teachers, is but a preparation for that
greater harshness which they will meet with on
entering the world ; and that were it possible for
parents and teachers to behave towards them with
perfect equity and entire sympathy, it would but
intensify the sufferings which the selfishness of men
must, in after life, inflict on them.*

* This is the plea put in by some for the rough treatment ex-
perienced by boys at our public schools ; where, as it is said, they
are introduced to a miniature world whose imperfections and hard-
ships prepare them for those of the real world : and it must be
admitted that the plea has some force. But it is a very insufficient
plea. For whereas domestic and school discipline, though they
should not be very much better than the discipline of adult life,
should at any rate be somewhat better; the discipline which boys
meet with at Eton, Winchester, Harrow, &c, is much worse than
that of adult life — much more unjust, cruel, brutal. Instead of being
an aid to human progress, which all culture should be, the culture
of our public schools, by accustoming boys to a despotic form of
government and an intercourse regulated by brute force, tends to fit
them for a lower state of society than that which exists. And
chiefly recruited as our legislature is from among those who are
brought up at these schools, this barbarizing influence becomes a
6erious hindrance to national progress.

LIMITED BY THE STATE OF SOCIETY 171

" But does not this prove too much ? " some one
will ask. " If no system of moral culture can forth-
with make children altogether what they should
be ; if, even were there a system that would do
this, existing parents are too imperfect to carry it
out ; and if even could such a system he success-
fully caried out, its results would be disastrously
incongruous with the present state of society ; does
it not follow that a reform in the system now in
use is neither practicable nor desirable ? " No. It
merely follows that reform in domestic government
must go on, pari passu, with other reforms. It
merely follows that methods of discipline neither
can be nor should be ameliorated, except by instal-
ments. It merely follows that the dictates of ab-
stract rectitude will, in practice, inevitably be sub-
ordinated by the present state of human nature —
by the imperfections alike of children, of parents,
and of society ; and can only be better fulfilled as
the general character becomes better.

" At any rate, then," may rejoin our critic, " it
is clearly useless to set up any ideal standard of
family discipline. There can be no advantage in
elaborating and recommending methods that are in
advance of the time." Again we must contend for
the contrary. Just as in the case of political gov-
ernment, though pure rectitude may be at present
impracticable, it is requisite to know where the
right lies, so that the changes we make may be
towards the right instead of away from it ; so in
the case of domestic government, an ideal must bo

172 MORAL EDUCATION.

upheld, that there may be gradual approximations
to it. We need fear no evil consequences from the
maintenance of such an ideal. On the average the
constitutional conservatism of mankind is always
strong enough to prevent a too rapid change. So
admirable are the arrangements of things that until
men have grown up to the level of a higher belief,
they cannot receive it : nominally, they may hold
it, but not virtually. And even when the truth
gets recognised, the obstacles to conformity with it
are so persistent as to outlive the patience of phi-
lanthropists and even philosophers. We may be
quite sure, therefore, that the many difficulties
standing in the way of a normal government of
children, will always put an adequate check upon
the efforts to realize it.

With these preliminary explanations, let us go
on to consider the true aims and methods of moral
education — moral education, strictly so called, we
mean ; for we do not propose to enter upon the
question of religious education as an aid to the
education exclusively moral. This we omit as a
topic better dealt with separately. After a few
pages devoted to the settlement of general prin-
ciples, during the perusal of which we bespeak the
reader's patience, we shall aim by illustrations to
make clear the right methods of parental behaviour
in the hourly occurring difficulties of family gov-
ernment.

When a child falls, or runs its head against the
if

0*1

THE METHOD OF NATURE. 173

table, it suffers a pain, the remembrance of which
tends to make it more careful for the future ; and
by an occasional repetition of like experiences, it is
eventually disciplined into a proper guidance of its
movements. If it lays hold of the fire-bars, thrusts
its linger into the candle-flame, or spills boiling
water on any part of its skin, the resulting burn
or scald is a lesson not easily forgotten. So deep
an impression is produced by one or two such
events, that afterwards no persuasion will induce it
again to disregard the laws of its constitution in
these ways.

Now in these and like cases, Nature illustrates
to us in the simplest way, the true theory and
practice of moral discipline — a theory and practice
which, however much they may seem to the super-
ficial like those commonly received, we shall find on
examination to differ from them very widely.

Observe, in the first place, that in bodily in-
juries and their penalties we have misconduct and
its consequences reduced to their simplest forms.
Though, according to their popular acceptations,
right and wrong are words scarcely applicable to
actions that have none but direct bodily effects ;
yet whoever considers the matter will see that such
actions must be as much classifiable under these
heads as any other actions. From whatever basis
they start, all theories of morality agree in con-
sidering that conduct whose total results, immediate
and remote, are beneficial, is good conduct ; while
conduct whose total results, immediate and remote

174 MORAL EDUCATION.

are injurious, is bad conduct. The happiness or
misery caused by it are the ultimate standards by
•which all men judge of behaviour. We consider
drunkenness wrong because of the physical degen-
eracy and accompanying moral evils entailed on
the transgressor and his dependents. Did theft
uniformly give pleasure both to taker and loser, we
should not find it in our catalogue of sins. Were
it conceivable that benevolent actions multiplied
human pains, we should condemn them — should
not consider them benevolent. It needs but to
read the first newspaper leader, or listen to any
conversation touching social affairs, to see that acts
of parliament, political movements, philanthropic
agitations, in common with the doings of individ-
uals, are judged by their anticipated results in
multiplying the pleasures or pains of men. And if
on looking on all secondary superinduced ideas, we
find these to be our ultimate tests of right and
wrong, we cannot refuse to class purely physical
actions as right or wrong according to the beneficial
or detrimental results they produce.

Note, in the second place, the character of the
punishments by which these physical transgressions
are prevented. Punishments, we call them, in the
absence of a better word ; for they are not punish-
ments in the literal sense. They are not artificial
and unnecessary inflictions of pain ; but are simply
the beneficent checks to actions that are essentially
at variance with bodily welfare — checks in the ab-
sence of which life would quickly be destroyed by

THE CHILD ACTS AND NATURE REACTS. 175

bodily injuries. It is the peculiarity of these pen-
alties, if we must so call them, that they are noth-
ing more than the unavoidable consequences of the
deeds which they follow : they are nothing more
than the inevitable reactions entailed by the child's
actions.

Let it be further borne in mind that these pain-
ful reactions are proportionate to the degree in
which the organic laws have been transgressed. A
slight accident brings a slight pain, a more serious
one, a greater pain. When a child tumbles over
the door-step, it is not ordained that it shall suffer
in excess of the amount necessary, with the view
of making it still more cautious than the necessary
suffering will make it. But from its daily expe-
rience it is left to learn the greater or less penalties
of greater or less errors ; and to behave accord-
ingly.

And then mark, lastly, that these natural reac-
tions which follow the child's wrong actions, are
constant, direct, unhesitating, and not to be es-
caped. No threats : but a silent, rigorous perform-
ance. If a child runs a pin into its finger, pain
follows. If it does it again, there is again the same
result : and so on perpetually. In all its dealings
with surrounding inorganic nature it finds this un-
swerving persistence, which listens to no excuse,
and from which there is no appeal ; and very soon
recognising this stern though beneficent discipline,
it becomes extremely careful not to transgress.

.Still more significant will these general truth*

17C MORAL EDUCATION.

appear, when we remember that they hold through-
out adult life as well as throughout infantine life.
It is by an experimentally-gained knowledge of the
natural consequences, that men and women are
checked when they go wrong. After home educa-
tion has ceased, and when there are no longer par-
ents and teachers to forbid this or that kind of
conduct, there comes into play a discipline like that
by which the young child is taught its first lessons
in self-guidance. If the youth entering upon the
business of life idles away his time and fulfils slowly
or unskilfully the duties entrusted to him, there by-
and-bye follows the natural penalty : he is dis-
charged, and left to suffer for awhile the evils of
relative poverty. On the unpunctual man, failing
alike his appointments of business and pleasure,
there continually fall the consequent inconveniences,
losses, and deprivations. The avaricious tradesman
who charges too high a rate of profit, loses his cus-
tomers, and so is checked in his greediness. Di-
minishing practice teaches the inattentive doctor to
bestow more trouble on his patients. The too
credulous creditor and the over-sanguine specula-
tor alike learn by the difficulties which rashness
entails on them, the necessity of being more cau-
tious in their engagements. And so throughout
the life of every citizen. In the quotation so often
made apropos of these cases — " The burnt child
dreads the fire " — we see not only that the analogy
between this social discipline and Nature's early
discipline of infants is universally recognised ; but

nature's method with adults. 177

we also see an implied conviction that this disci-
pline is of the most efficient kind. Nay more, this
conviction is not only implied, but distinctly stated.
Every one has heard others confess that only by
" dearly bought experience " had they been induced
io give up some bad or foolish course of conduct
formerly pursued. Every one has heard, in the
criticisms passed on the doings of this spendthrift
or the other speculator, the remark that advice was
useless, and that nothing but " bitter experience "
would produce any effect : nothing, that is, but
suffering the unavoidable consequences. And if
further proof be needed that the penalty of the
natural reaction is not only the most efficient, but
that no humanly-devised penalty can replace it, we
have such further proof in the notorious ill-success
of our various penal systems. Out of the many
methods of criminal discipline that have been pro-
posed and legally enforced, none have answered the
expectations of their advocates. Not only have
artificial punishments failed to produce reformation,
but they have in many cases increased the criminal-
ity. The only successful reformatories are those
privately-established ones which have approximated
their regime to the method of Nature — which have
done little more than administer the natural conse-
quences of criminal conduct : the natural conse-
quences being, that *by imprisonment or other re-
straint, the criminal shall have his liberty of action
diminished as much as is needful for the safety of
society ; and that he shall be made to maintain him-

JL78 MORAL EDUCATION.

Belf while living under this restraint. Thus we see
not only that the discipline by which the young child
is so successfully taught to regulate its movements
is also the discipline by which the great mass of
adults are kept in order, and more or less improved ;
but that the discipline humanly-devised for the
worst adults, fails when it diverges from this divine-
ly-ordained discipline, and begins to succeed when
it approximates to it.

Have we not here, then, the guiding principle
of moral education ? Must we not infer that the
system so beneficent in its effects, alike during in-
fancy and maturity, will be equally beneficent
throughout youth ? Can any one believe that the
method which answers so well in the first and the
last divisions of life will not answer in the inter-
mediate division ? Is it not manifest that as " min-
isters and interpreters of Nature " it is the function
of parents to see that their children habitually ex-
perience the true consequences of their conduct —
the natural reactions : neither warding them off,
nor intensifying them, nor putting artificial conse-
quences in place of them ? ~No unprejudiced reader
will hesitate in his assent.

Probably, however, not a few will contend that
already most parents do this — that the punishments
they inflict are, in the majority of cases, the true
consequences of ill-conduct — that parental anger,
renting itself in harsh words and deeds, is the re-
sult of a child's transgression — and that, in the

BAD 8YSTEM8 MAY BE KKLATIVELY GOOD. 179

suffering, physical or moral, which the child is
subject to, it experiences the natural reaction of its
misbehaviour. Along with much error this asser-
tion, doubtless, contains some truth. It is unques-
tionable that the displeasure of fathers and mothers
is a true consequence of juvenile delinquency ; and
that the manifestation of it is a normal check upon
such delinquency. It is unquestionable that the
scoldings, and threats, and blows, which a passion-
ate parent visits on offending little ones, are effects
actually produced in such a parent by their of-
fences ; and so are, in some aort, to be considered
as among the natural reactions of their wrong ac-
tions. And we are by no means prepared to say
that these modes of treatment are not relatively
right — right, that is, in relation to the uncontrol-
lable children of ill-controlled adults ; and right in
relation to a state of society in which such ill-con-
trolled adults make up the mass of the people. As
already suggested, educational systems, like politi-
cal and other institutions, are generally as good as
the state of human nature permits. The barbarous
children of barbarous parents are probably only to
be restrained by the barbarous methods which such
parents spontaneously employ ; while submission
to these barbarous methods is perhaps the best prep-
aration such children can have for the barbarous
society in which they are presently to play a part.
Conversely, the civilized members of a civilized
society will spontaneously manifest their displeas-
ure in less violent ways — will spontaneously use

180 MORAL EDUCATION.

milder measures : measures strong enough for their
better-natured children. Thus it is doubtless true
that, in so far as the expression of parental feeling
is concerned, the principle of the natural reaction
is always more or less followed. The system of
domestic government ever gravitates towards its
right form.

But now observe two important facts. In the
first place, observe that, in states of rapid transition
like ours, which witness a long-drawn battle be-
tween old and new theories and old and new prac-
tices, the educational methods in use are apt to
be considerably out of harmony with the times.
In deference to dogmas fit only for the ages that
uttered them, many parents inflict punishments
that do violence to their own feelings, and 60 visit
on their children wraiatural reactions ; while other
parents, enthusiastic in their hopes of immediate
perfection, rush to the opposite extreme. And then
observe, in the second place, that the discipline on
which we are insisting is not so much the expe-
rience of parental approbation or disapprobation,
which, in most cases, is only a secondary conse-
quence of a child's conduct ; but it is the experience
of those results which would naturally flow from
the conduct in the absence of parental opinion or
interference. The truly instructive and salutary
consequences are not those inflicted by parents
when they take upon themselves to be Nature's
proxies ; but they are those inflicted by Nature
herself. We will endeavour to make this distlnc-

THE NORMAL SYSTEM ILLUSTRATED. 181

tion clear by a few illustrations, which, while they
show what we mean by natural reactions as con-
trasted with artificial ones, will afford some directly
practical suggestions.

In every family where there are young children
there almost daily occur cases of what mothers and
servants call " making a litter." A child has had
out its box of toys, and leaves them scattered about
the floor. Or a handful of flowers, brought in from
a morning walk, is presently seen dispersed over
tables and chairs. Or a little girl, making doll's-
clothes, disfigures the room with shreds. In most
cases the trouble of rectifying this disorder falls
anywhere but in the right place : if in the nursery,
the nurse herself, with many grumblings about
" tiresome little things," &c, undertakes the task ;
if below stairs, the task usually devolves either on
one of the elder children or on the housemaid ; the
transgressor being visited with nothing more than
a scolding. In this very simple case, however,
there are many parents wise enough to follow out,
more or less consistently, the normal course — that
of making the child itself collect the toys or shreds.
The labour of putting things in order is the true
consequence of having put them in disorder. Every
trader in his office, every wife in her household,
has daily experience of this fact. And if education
be a preparation for the business of life, then every
child should also, from the beginning, have daily
experience of this fact. If the natural penalty be
met by any refractory behaviour (which it may

182 MORAL EDUCATION.

perhaps be where the general system of moral dis-
cipline previously pursued has been bad), then the
proper course is to let the child feel the ulterior re-
action consequent on its disobedience. Having re-
fused or neglected to pick up and put away the
things it has scattered about, and having thereby
entailed the trouble of doing this on some one else,
the child should, on subsequent occasions, be denied
the means of giving this trouble. When next it
petitions for its toy-box, the reply of its mamma
should be — " The last time you had your toys you
left them lying on the floor, and Jane had to pick
them up. Jane is too busy to pick up every day
the things you leave about ; and I cannot do it
myself. So that, as you will not put away your
toys when you have done with them, I cannot let
you have them." This is obviously a natural con-
sequence, neither increased nor lessened ; and must
be so recognised by a child. The penalty comes,
too, at the moment when it is most keenly felt. A
new-born desire is balked at the moment of antici-
pated gratification ; and the strong impression so
produced can scarcely fail to have an effect on the
future conduct : an effect which, by consistent rep-
etition, will do whatever can be done in curing
the fault. Add to which, that, by this method, a
child is early taught the lesson which cannot be
learnt too soon, that in this world of ours pleasures
are rightly to be obtained only by labour.

Take another case. Not long since we had fre-
quently to listen to the reprimands visited on a

THE NORMAL SYSTEM ILLUSTRATED. 183

little girl who was scarcely ever ready in time for
the daily walk. Of eager disposition, and apt to
become thoroughly absorbed in the occupation of
the moment, Constance never thought of putting
on her things until the rest were ready. The gov-
erness and the other children had almost invariably
to wait ; and from the mamma there almost in-
variably came the same scolding. Utterly as this
system failed it never occurred to the mamma to
let Constance experience the natural penalty. Nor,
indeed, would she try it when it was suggested to
her. In the world the penalty of being behind
time is the loss of some advantage that would else
have been gained : the train is gone ; or the steam-
boat is just leaving its moorings ; or the best things
in the market are sold ; or all the good seats in
the concert-room are filled. And every one, in
cases perpetually occurring, may see that it is the
prospective deprivations entailed by being too late
which prevent people from being too late. Is not
the inference obvious ? Should not these prospec-
tive deprivations control the child's conduct also ?
If Constance is not ready at the appointed time, the
natural result is that of being left behind, and losing
her walk. And no one can, we think, doubt that
after having once or twice remained at home while
the rest were enjoying themselves in the fields, and
after having felt that this loss of a much-prized
gratification was solely due to want of promptitude,
some amendment would take place. At any rate,
the measure would be more effective than that per'

184: MOEAL EDUCATION.

petual scolding which ends only in producing cal-
lousness.

Again, when children, with more than usual
carelessness, break or lose the things given to them,
the natural penalty — the penalty which makes
grown-up persons more careful — is the consequent
inconvenience. The want of the lost or damaged
article, and the cost of supplying its place, are the
experiences by which men and women are disci-
plined in these matters ; and the experience of chil-
dren should be as much as possible assimilated to
theirs. We do not refer to that early period at
which toys are pulled to pieces in the process of
learning their physical properties, and at which the
results of carelessness cannot be understood ; but to
a later period, when the meaning and advantages
of property are perceived. When a boy, old
enough to possess a penknife, uses it so roughly as
to snap the blade, or leaves it in the grass by some
hedge-side, where he was cutting a stick, a thought-
less parent, or some indulgent relative, will com-
monly forthwith buy him another ; not seeing that,
by doing this, a valuable lesson is lost. In such a
case, a father may properly explain that penknives
cost money, and that to get money requires labour ;
that he cannot afford to purchase new penknives for
one who loses or breaks them ; and that until he
sees evidence of greater carefulness he must decline
to make good the loss. A parallel discipline may
be used as a means of checking extravagance.

These few familiar instances, here chosen be-

ADVANTAGES OF THE NORMAL SYSTEM. 185

cause of the simplicity with which they illustrate
our point, will make clear to every one the distinc-
tion between those natural penalties which we con-
tend are the truly efficient ones, and those artificial
penalties which parents commonly substitute for
them. Before going on to exhibit the higher and
subtler applications of this principle, let us note its
many and great superiorities over the principle, or
rather the empirical practice, which prevails in
most families.

In the first place, right conceptions of cause and
effect are early formed ; and by frequent and con-
sistent experience are eventually rendered definite
and complete. Proper conduct in life is much
better guaranteed when the good and evil conse-
quences of actions are rationally understood, than
when they are merely believed on authority. A
child who finds that disorderliness entails the sub-
sequent trouble of putting things in order, or who
misses a gratification from dilatoriness, or whose
want of care is followed by the loss or breakage of
some much-prized possession, not only experiences
a keenly-felt consequence, but gains a knowledge
of causation : both the one and the other being
just like those which adult life will bring. Where-
as a child who in such cases receives some repri-
mand or some factitious penalty, not only expe-
riences a consequence for which it often cares very
little, but lacks that instruction respecting the es-
sential natures of good and evil conduct, which it
would else have gathered. It is a vice of the com-

186 MORAL EDUCATION.

mon system of artificial rewards and punishments,
long since noticed by the clear-sighted, that by sub-
stituting for the natural results of misbehaviour
certain threatened tasks or castigations, it produces
a radically wrong standard of moral guidance.
Having throughout infancy and boyhood always
regarded parental or tutorial displeasure as the re-
sult of a forbidden action, the youth has gained an
established association of ideas between such action
and such displeasure, as cause and effect ; and con-
sequently when parents and tutors have abdicated,
and their displeasure is not to be feared, the re-
straint on a forbidden action is in great measure re-
moved : the true restraints, the natural reactions-
having yet to be, learnt by sad experience. Ae
writes one who has had personal knowledge of this
shortsighted system : — " Young men let loose from
school, particularly those whose parents have neg-
lected to exert their influence, plunge into every
description of extravagance ; they know no rule
of action — they are ignorant of the reasons for
moral conduct — they have no foundation to rest
upon — and until they have been severely disciplined
by the world are extremely dangerous members of
society."

Another great advantage of this natural system
of discipline is, that it is a system of pure justice;
and will be recognised by every child as such.
Whoso suffers nothing more than the evil which
obviously follows naturally from his own misbe-
haviour, is much less likely to think himself wrongly

ADVANTAGES OF THE NORMAL SYSTEM. 187

heated than if he suffers an evil artificially inflicted
on him ; and this will be true of children as of
men. Take the case of a boy who is habitually reck-
less of his clothes — scrambles through hedges with-
out caution, or is utterly regardless of mud. If he
is beaten, or sent to bed, he is apt to regard him-
self as ill-used ; and his mind is more likely to be
occupied by thinking over his injuries than repent-
ing of his transgressions. But suppose he is re-
quired to rectify as far as he can the harm he has
done — to clean off the mud with which he has cov-
ered himself, or to mend the tear as well as he can.
Will he not feel that the evil is one of his own pro-
ducing ? Will he not while paying this penalty be
continuously conscious of the connexion between it
and its cause ? And will he not, spite his irrita-
tion, recognise more or less clearly the justice of the
arrangement ? If several lessons of this kind fail
to produce amendment — if suits of clothes are pre
maturely spoiled — if pursuing this same system of
discipline a father declines to spend money for nev/
ones until the ordinary time has elapsed — and if
meanwhile, there occur occasions on which, having
no decent clothes to go in, the boy is debarred from
joining the rest of the family on holiday excursions
and f&U days, it is manifest that while he will
keenly feel the punishment, he can scarcely fail to
trace the chain of causation, and to perceive that
his own carelessness is the origin of it ; and seeing
this, he will not have that same sense of injustice

tSB

MORAL EDUCATION.

as when there is no obvious connexion between the
transgression and its penalty.

Again, the tempers both of parents and children
are much less liable to be ruffled under this system
than under the ordinary system. Instead of letting
children experience the painful results which natu-
rally follow from wrong conduct, the usual course
pursued by parents is to inflict themselves certain
other painful results. A double mischief arises
from this. Making, as they do, multiplied family
laws ; and identifying their own supremacy and dig-
nity with the maintenance of these laws ; it hap-
pens that every transgression comes to be regard-
ed as an offence against themselves, and a cause
of anger on their part. Add to which the further
irritations which result from taking upon them-
selves, in the shape of extra labour or cost, those
evil consequences which should have been allowed
to fall on the wrong-doers. Similarly with the
children. Penalties which the necessary reaction of
things brings round upon them — penalties which
are inflicted by impersonal agency, produce an irri-
tation that is comparatively slight and transient ;
whereas, penalties which are voluntarily inflicted
by a parent, and are afterwards remembered as
caused by him or her, produce an irritation both
greater and more continued. Just consider how
disastrous would be the result if this empirical
method were pursued from the beginning. Sup
pose it were possible for parents to take upon them-1
selves the physical sufferings entailed on their chil-

EVILS OF ARTIFICIAL PUNISHMENT. 189

dren by ignorance and awkwardness ; and that
while bearing these evil consequences they visited
on their children certain other evil consequences,
with the view of teaching them the impropriety of
their conduct. Suppose that when a child, who
had been forbidden to meddle with the kettle, spilt
some boiling water on its foot, the mother vicari-
ously assumed the scald and gave a blow in place
of it ; and similarly in all other cases. Would not
the daily mishaps be sources of far more anger than
now ? "Would there not be chronic ill-temper on
both sides ? Yet an exactly parallel policy is pur-
sued in after years. A father who punishes his boy
for carelessly or wilfully breaking a sister's toy, and
then himself pays for a new toy, does substantially
this same thing — inflicts an artificial penalty on the
transgressor, and takes the natural penalty on him-
self : his own feelings and those of the transgressor
being alike needlessly irritated. If he simply re-
quired restitution to be made, he would produce far
less heartburning. If he told the boy that a new
toy must be bought at his, the boy's, cost, and that
his supply of pocket-money must be withheld to
the needful extent, there would be much less cause
for ebullition of temper on either side ; while in the
deprivation afterwards felt, the boy would expe-
rience the equitable and salutary consequence. In
brief, the system of discipline by natural reactions
is less injurious to temper, alike because it is per-
ceived on both sides to be nothing more than pure
justice, and because it more or less substitutes the

190 MORAL EDUCATION.

impersonal agency of nature for the personal agency
of parents.

Whence also follows the manifest corollary, that
under this system the parental and filial relation
will be a more friendly, and therefore a more in-
fluential one. Whether in parent or child, anger,
however caused, and to whomsoever directed, is
more or less detrimental. But anger in a parent
towards a child, and in a child towards a parent, is
especially detrimental ; because it weakens that
bond of sympathy which is essential to a benefi-
cent control. In virtue of the general law of asso-
ciation of ideas, it inevitably results, both in young
and old, that dislike is contracted towards things
which in our experience are habitually connected
with disagreeable feelings. Or where attachment
originally existed, it is weakened, or destroyed, or
turned into repugnance, according to the quantity
of painful impressions received. Parental wrath,
with its accompanying reprimands and castigations,
cannot fail, if often repeated, to produce filial alien-
ation ; while the resentment and sulkiness of chil-
dren cannot fail to weaken the affection felt for
them, and may even end in destroying it. Hence
the numerous cases in which parents (and especially
fathers, who are commonly deputed to express the
anger and inflict the punishment) are regarded with
indifference, if not with aversion ; and hence the
equally numerous cases in which children are looked
upon as inflictions. Seeing, then, as all must do,
\hat estrangement of this kind is fatal to a salutary

PENAL DISCIPLINE OF NATURE. 191

moral culture, it follows that parents cannot be too
solicitous in avoiding occasions of direct antagon-
ism with their children — occasions of personal re-
sentment. And therefore they cannot too anxiously
avail themselves of this discipline of natural conse-
quences— this system of letting the penalty be in-
flicted by the laws of things ; which, by saving the
parent from the function of a penal agent, prevents
these mutual exasperations and estrangements.

Thus we see that this method of moral culture
by experience of the normal reactions, which is the
divinely-ordained method alike for infancy and for
adult life, is equally applicable during the inter-
mediate childhood and youth. And among the ad-
vantages of this method we see — First. That it
gives that rational comprehension of right and
wrong conduct which results from actual experience
of the good and bad consequences caused by them.
Second. That the child, suffering nothing more
than the painful effects brought upon it by its own
wrong actions, must recognise more or less clearly
the justice of the penalties. Third. That, recog-
nising the justice of the penalties, and receiving
those penalties through the working of things,
rather than at the hands of an individual, its temper
will be less disturbed ; while the parent occupying
the comparatively passive position of taking care
that the natural penalties are felt, will preserve a
comparative equanimity. And Fourth. That mu-
tual exasperation being thus in great measure pre-
vented, a much happier, and a more influential

192 MOKAL EDUCATION.

state of feeling, will exist between parent and
child.

" But what is to be done with more serious mis-
conduct ? " some will ask. " How is this plan to be
carried out when a petty theft has been committed ?
or when a lie has been told ? or when some younger
brother or sister has been ill-used ? "

Before replying to these questions, let us con-
sider the bearings of a few illustrative facts.

Living in the family of his brother-in-law, a
friend of ours had undertaken the education of his
little nephew and niece. This he had conducted,
more perhaps from natural sympathy than from
reasoned-out conclusions, in the spirit of the method
above set forth. The two children were in doors
his pupils and out of doors his companions. They
daily joined him in walks and botanizing excur-
sions, eagerly sought out plants for him, looked on
while he examined and identified them, and in this
and other ways were ever gaining both pleasure and
instruction in his society. In short, morally con-
sidered, he stood to them much more in the position
of parent than either their father or mother did.
Describing to us the results of this policy, he gave,
among other instances, the following. One even-
ing, having need for some article lying in another
part of the house, he asked his nephew to fetch it
for him. Deeply interested as the boy was in some
amusement of the moment, he, contrary to his
wont, either exhibited great reluctance or refused,

FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 193

we forget which. His uncle, disapproving of a
coercive course fetched it himself; merely exhibit-
ing by his manner the annoyance this ill-behaviour
gave him. And when, later in the evening, the
boy made overtures for the usual play, they were
gravely repelled — the uncle manifested just that
coldness of feeling naturally produced in him, and
so let the boy experience the necessary consequences
of his conduct. Next morning at the usual time
for rising, our friend heard a new voice outside the
door, and in walked his little nephew with the hot
water ; and then the boy, peering about the room
to see what else could be done, exclaimed, " Oh !
you want your boots," and forthwith rushed down
stairs to fetch them. In this and other ways he
showed a true penitence for his misconduct ; he en-
deavoured by unusual services to make up for the
service he had refused ; his higher feelings had of
themselves conquered his lower ones, and acquired
strength by the conquest ; and he valued more than
before the friendship he thus regained.

This gentleman is now himself a father ; acts on
the same system ; and finds it answer completely.
He makes himself thoroughly his children's friend.
The evening is longed for by them because he will
be at home ; and they especially enjoy the Sunday
because he is with them all day. Thus possessing
their perfect confidence and aifection, he finds that
the simple display of his approbation or disapproba-
tion gives him abundant power of control. If, on
his return home, he hears that one of his boys has

194 MORAL EDUCATION.

been naughty, he behaves towards him with that
comparative coldness which the consciousness of the
boy's misconduct naturally produces ; and he finds
this a most efficient punishment. The mere with-
holding of the usual caresses, is a source of the
keenest distress — produces a much more prolonged
fit of crying than a beating would do. And the
dread of this purely moral penalty is, he says, ever
present during his absence : so much so, that fre-
quently during the day his children inquire of their
mamma how they have behaved, and whether the
report will be good. Recently, the eldest, an ac-
tive urchin of five, in one of those bursts of animal
spirits common in healthy children, committed sun-
dry extravagances during his mammas absence —
cut off" part of his brother's hair and wounded him-
self with a razor taken from his father's dressing-
case. Hearing of these occurrences on his return,
the father did not speak to the boy either that
night or next morning. Not only was the tribula-
tion great, but the subsequent effect was, that when,
a few days after, the mamma was about to go out,
she was earnestly entreated by the boy not to do
so ; and on inquiry, it appeared his fear was that
he might again transgress in her absence.

We have introduced these facts before replying
to the question — " What is to be done with the
graver offences ? " for the purpose of first exhibiting
the relation that may and ought to be established
between parents and children ; for on the existence
of this relation depends the successful treatment of

CHILDREN REGARD PARENT8 A8 FRIEND-ENEMIES. 1G5

these graver offences. And as a further prelimi-
nary, we must now point out that the establishment
of this relation will result from adopting the sys-
tem we advocate. Already we have shown that
by letting a child experience simply the painful
reactions of its own wrong actions, a parent in great
measure avoids assuming the attitude of an enemy,
and escapes being regarded as one ; but it still re-
mains to be shown that where this course has been
consistently pursued from the beginning, a strong
feeling of active friendship will be generated.

At present, mothers and fathers are mostly con-
sidered by their offspring as friend -enemies. De-
termined as their impressions inevitably are by the
treatment they receive ; and oscillating as that
treatment does between bribery and thwarting, be-
tween petting and scolding, between gentleness and
castigation ; children necessarily acquire conflicting
beliefs respecting the parental character. A mother
commonly thinks it quite sufficient to tell her little
boy that she is his best friend ; and assuming that
he is in duty bound to believe her, concludes that
he will forthwith do so. " It is all for your good ; "
" I know what is proper for you better than you do
yourself ; " " You are not old enough to understand
it now, but when you grow up you will thank
me for doing what I do ; " — these, and like asser-
tions, are daily reiterated. Meanwhile the boy is
daily suffering positive penalties ; and is hourly
forbidden to do this, that, and the other, which he
was anxious to do. By words he hears that his

196 MOKAL EDUCATION.

happiness is the end in view ; but from the accom
panying deeds he habitually receives more or lesa
pain. Utterly incompetent as he is to understand
that future which his mother has in view, or how
this treatment conduces to the happiness of that fu-
ture, he judges by such results as he feels ; and
finding these results any thing but pleasurable, he
becomes sceptical respecting these professions of
friendship. And is it not folly to expect any other
issue ? Must not the child judge by such evidence
as he has got ? and does not this evidence seem to
warrant his conclusion ? The mother would reason
in just the same way if similarly placed. If, in the
circle of her acquaintance, she found some one who
was constantly thwarting her wishes, uttering sharp
reprimands, and occasionally inflicting actual pen-
alties on her, she would pay but little attention to
any professions of anxiety for her welfare which
accompanied these acts. Why, then, does she sup-
pose that her boy will conclude otherwise 8

■i But now observe how different will be the re-
sults if the system we contend for be consistently
pursued — if the mother not only avoids becoming
the instrument of punishment, but plays the part
of a friend, by warning her boy of the punishments
which Nature will inflict. Take a case ; and that
it may illustrate the mode in which this policy is
to be early initiated, let it be one of the simplest
cases. Suppose that, prompted by the experi-
mental spirit so conspicuous in children, whose
proceedings instinctively conform to the inductive

COURSE OF THE DISCRIMINATING MOTHER. 197

method of inquiry — suppose that so prompted the
child is amusing himself by lighting pieces of pa-
per in the candle and watching them burn. If his
mother is of the ordinary unreflective stamp, she
will either, on the plea of keeping the child " out
of mischief," or from fear that he will burn himself,
command him to desist ; and in case of non-com-
pliance will snatch the paper from him. On the
other hand, should he be so fortunate as to have a
mother of sufficient rationality, who knows that
this interest with which the child is watching the
paper burn results from a healthy inquisitiveness,
without which he would never have emerged out
of infantine stupidity, and who is also wise enough
to consider the moral results of interference, she
will reason thus : — " If I put a stop to this I shall
prevent the acquirement of a certain amount of
knowledge. It is true that I may save the child
from a burn ; but what then ? He is sure to burn
himself sometime ; and it is quite essential to his
safety in life that he should learn by experience the
properties of flame. Moreover, if I forbid him
from running this present risk, he is sure hereafter
to run the same or a greater risk when no one is
present to prevent him ; whereas, if he should have
any accident now that I am by, I can save him
from any great injury; add to which the advan-
tage that he will have in future some dread of fire,
and will be less likely to burn himself to death, or
set the house in a flame when others are absent.
Furthermore, were I to make him desist, I should

198 MORAL EDUCATION.

thwart him in the pursuit of what is in itself a
purely harmless, and indeed, instructive gratifica-
tion ; and he would be sure to regard me with
more or less ill-feeling. Ignorant as he is of the
pain from which I would save him, and feeling
only the pain of a balked desire, he could not fail
to look upon me as the cause of that pain. To save
him from a hurt which he cannot conceive, and
which has therefore no existence for him, I inflict
upon him a hurt which he feels keenly enough ;
and so become, from his point of view, a minister
of evil. My best course then, is simply to warn
him of the danger, and to be ready to prevent any
serious damage." And following out this conclu-
sion, she says to the child — " I fear you will hurt
yourself if you do that." Suppose, now, that the
child perseveres, as he will very probably do ; and
suppose that he ends by burning himself. What
are the results ? In the first place he has gained
an experience which he must gain eventually, and
which, for his own safety he cannot gain too soon.
And in the second place, he has found that his
mother's disapproval or warning was meant for his
welfare : he has a further positive experience of her
benevolence — a further reason for placing confi-
dence in her judgment and her kindness — a further
reason for loving her.

Of course, in those occasional hazards where
there is a risk of broken limbs or other serious
bodily injury, forcible prevention is called for.
But leaving out these extreme cases, the system

CHILDREN MUST LEARN BY EXPERIENCE. 199

pursued should be not that of guarding a child
against the small dangers into which it daily runs,
but that of advising and warning it against them.
And by consistently pursuing this course, a much
stronger filial affection will be generated than com-
monly exists. If here, as elsewhere, the discipline
of the natural reactions is allowed to come into
play — if in all those out-of-door scramblings and
in-door experiments, by which children are liable
to hurt themselves, they are allowed to persevere,
subject only to dissuasion more or less earnest ac-
cording to the risk, there cannot fail to arise an
ever-increasing faith in the parental friendship and
guidance. Not only, as before shown, does the
adoption of this principle enable fathers and moth-
ers to avoid the chief part of that odium which at-
taches to the infliction of positive punishment; but,
as we here see, it enables them further to avoid the
odium that attaches to constant thwartings ; and
even to turn each of those incidents which com-
monly cause squabbles, into a means of strength-
ening the mutual good feeling. Instead of being
told in words, which deeds seem to contradict, that
their parents are theii best friends, children will
learn this truth by a consistent daily experience ;
and so learning it, will acquire a degree of trust
and attachment which nothing else can give.

And now having indicated the much more sym-
pathetic relation which must result from the habit-
ual use of this method, let us return to the quest-

200 MORAL EDUCATION.

tion above put — How is this method to be applied
to the graver offences ?

Note, in the first place, that these graver of-
fences are likely to be both less frequent and less
grave under the regime we have described than un-
der the ordinary regime. The perpetual ill-behav-
iour of many children is itself the consequence of
that chronic irritation in which they are kept by
bad management. The state of isolation and an-
tagonism produced by frequent punishment, neces-
sarily deadens the sympathies ; necessarily, there-
fore, opens the way to those transgressions which
the sympathies should check. That harsh treat-
ment which children of the same family inflict on
each other is often, in great measure, a reflex of the
harsh treatment they receive from adults — partly
suggested by direct example, and partly generated
by the ill-temper and the tendency to vicarious re-
taliation, which follow chastisements and scoldings.
It cannot be questioned that the greater activity of
the affections and happier state of feeling, main-
tained in children by the discipline we have de-
scribed, mnst prevent their sins against each other
from being either so great or so frequent. More-
over, the still more reprehensible offences, as lies
and petty thefts, will, by the same causes, be di-
minished. Domestic estrangement is a fruitful
source of such transgressions. It is a law of human
nature, visible enough to all who observe, that
those who are debarred the higher gratifications
fall back upon the lower ; those who have no sym-

TREATMENT OF GRAVE OFFENCES. 201

pathetic pleasures seek selfish ones; and hence,
conversely, the maintenance of happier relations
between parents and children is calculated to di-
minish the number of those offences of which self-
ishness is the origin.

When, however, sucli offences are committed,
as they will occasionally be even under the best
system, the discipline of consequences may still be
resorted to ; and if there exist that bond of confi-
dence and affection which we have described, this
discipline will be found efficient. For what are
the natural consequences, say, of a theft? They
are of two kinds — direct and indirect. The direct
consequence, as dictated by pure equity, is that of
making restitution. An absolutely just ruler (and
every parent should aim to be one) will demand
that, wherever it is possible, a wrong act shall be
undone by a right one : and in the case of theft
this implies either the restoration of the thing
stolen, or, if it is consumed, then the giving of an
equivalent : which, in the case of a child, may be
effected out of its pocket-money. The indirect and
more serious consequence is the grave displeasure
of parents — a consequence which inevitably follows
among all peoples sufficiently civilized to regard
theft as a crime ; and the manifestation of this dis-
pleasure is, in this instance, the most severe of the
natural reactions produced by the wrong action.
" But," it will be said, "the manifestation of parental
displeasure, either in words or blows, is the ordi-
nary course in these cases : the method leads here

202 MORAL EDUCATION.

to nothing new." Very true. Already we have
admitted that, in some directions, this method is
spontaneously pursued. Already we have shown
that there is a more or less manifest tendency for
educational systems to gravitate towards the true
system. And here we may remark, as before, that
the intensity of this natural reaction will, in the
beneficent order of things, adjust itself to the re-
quirements— that this parental displeasure will
vent itself in violent measures during compara-
tively barbarous times, when the children are also
comparatively barbarous; and will express itself
less cruelly in those more advanced social states in
which, by implication, the children are amenable
to milder treatment. But what it chiefly concerns
us here to observe is, that the manifestation of
strong parental displeasure, produced by one of
these graver offences, will be potent for good just
in proportion to the warmth of the attachment ex-
isting between parent and child. Just in propor-
tion as the discipline of the natural consequences
has been consistently pursued in other cases, will
it be efficient in this case. Proof is within the ex-
perience of all, if they will look for it.

For does not every man know that when he has
offended another person, the amount of genuine re-
gret he feels (of course, leaving worldly considera-
tions out of the question) varies with the degree of
sympathy he has for that person ? Is he not con*
Bcious that when the person offended stands to him
in the position of an enemy, the having given him

EFFECTS OF TRUE SYMPATHY AND FRIENDSHIP. 203

annoyance is apt to be a source rather of secret
satisfaction than of sorrow ? Does he not remem-
ber that where umbrage has been taken by some
total stranger, he has felt much less concern than
he would have done had such umbrage been taken
by one with whom he was intimate ? While, con-
versely, has not the anger of an admired and cher-
ished friend been regarded by him as a serious
misfortune, long and keenly regretted? Clearly,
then, the effects of parental displeasure upon chil-
dren must similarly depend upon the pre-existing
relationship. Where there is an established alien-
ation, the feeling of a child who has transgressed
is a purely selfish fear of the evil consequences
likely to fall upon it in the shape of physical pen-
alties or deprivations ; and after these evil conse-
quences have been inflicted, there are aroused an
antagonism and dislike which are morally inju-
rious, and tend further to increase the alienation.
On the contrary, where there exists a warm filial af-
fection produced by a consistent parental friendship
— a friendship not dogmatically asserted as an excuse
for punishments and denials, but daily exhibited in
ways that a child can comprehend — a friendship
which avoids needless thwartings, which warns
against impending evil consequences, and which
sympathizes with juvenile pursuits — there the state
of mind caused by parental displeasure will not
only be salutary as a check to future misconduct
of like kind, but will also be intrinsically salutary.
The moral pain consequent upon having, for the

204 MORAL EDUCATION.

time being, lost so loved a friend, will stand in
place of the physical pain usually inflicted ; and
where this attachment exists, will prove equally, if
not more, efficient. 6 While instead of the fear and
vindictiveness excited by the one course, there will
be excited by the other more or less of sympathy
with parental sorrow, a genuine regret for having
caused it, and a desire, by some atonement, to re-
establish the habitual friendly relationship. In-
stead of bringing into play those purely egoistic
feelings whose predominance is the cause of crimi-
nal acts, there will be brought into play those altru-
istic feelings which check criminal acts. Thus the
discipline of the natural consequences is applicable
to grave as well as trivial faults ; and the practice
of it conduces not simply to the repression, but to
the eradication of such faults.

In brief, the truth is that savageness begets
savageness, and gentleness begets gentleness. Chil-
dren who are unsympathetically treated become
relatively unsympathetic; whereas treating them
with due fellow-feeling is a means of cultivating
their fellow-feeling. With family governments as
with political ones, a harsh despotism itself gene-
rates a great part of the crimes it has to repress ;
while conversely a mild and liberal rule not only
avoids many causes of dissension, but so amelio-
rates the tone of feeling as to diminish the ten-
dency to transgression. As John Locke long since
remarked, " Great severity of punishment does but
very little good, nay, great harm, in education ;

LOCKE ON THE EFFECTS OF CHASTISEMENT. 205

and I believe it will be found that, cceteris paribus,
those children who have been most chastised sel-
dom make the best men." In confirmation of which
opinion we may cite the fact not long since made
public by Mr. Rogers, Chaplain of the Pentonville
Prison, that those juvenile criminals who have
been whipped are those who most frequently return
to prison. On the other hand, as exhibiting the
beneficial effects of a kinder treatment, we will in-
stance the fact stated to us by a French lady, in
whose house we recently staid in Paris. Apologiz-
ing for the disturbance daily caused by a little boy
who was unmanageable both at home and at school,
she expressed her fear that there was no remedy
save that which had succeeded in the case of an
elder brother ; namely, sending him to an English
school. She explained that at various schools in
Paris this elder brother had proved utterly untract-
able ; that in despair they had followed the advice
to send him to England ; and that on his return
home he was as good as he had before been bad.
And this remarkable change she ascribed entirely
to the comparative mildness of the English disci-
pline.

After this exposition of principles, our remaining
space may best be occupied by a few of the chief
maxims and rules deducible from them; and with
a view to brevity we will put these in a more or
less hortatory form.

Do not expect from a child any great amount of
moral goodness. During early years every civil-

200 MORAL EDUCATION.

ized man passes through that phase of character
exhibited by the barbarous race from which he is
descended. As the child's features — flat nose, for-
ward-opening nostrils, large lips, wide-apart eyes,
absent frontal sinus, &c. — resemble for a time those
of the savage, so, too, do his instincts. Hence the
tendencies to cruelty, to thieving, to lying, so gen-
eral among children — tendencies which, even with-
out the aid of discipline, will become more or less
modified just as the features do. The popular idea
that children are " innocent," while it may be true
in so far as it refers to evil knowledge, is totally
false in so far as it refers to evil impulses, as half
an hour's observation in the nursery will prove to
any one. Boys when left to themselves, as at a
public school, treat each other far more brutally
than men do ; and were they left to themselves at
an earlier age their brutality would be still more
conspicuous.

Not only is it unwise to set up a high standard
for juvenile good conduct, but it is even unwise to
use very urgent incitements to such good conduct.
Already most people recognise the detrimental re-
sults of intellectual precocity ; but there remains
to be • recognised the truth that there is a moral
precocity which is also detrimental. Our higher
moral faculties, like our higher intellectual ones,
are comparatively complex. By consequence they
are both comparatively late in their evolution.
And with the one as with the other, a very early
activity produced by stimulation will be at the ex-

SLOW EVOLUTION OF THE MORAL FACULTIES. 207

pense of the future character. Hence the not un-
common fact that those who during childhood were
instanced as models of juvenile goodness, by-and-by
undergo some disastrous and seemingly inexplica-
ble change, and end by being not above but below
par ; while relatively exemplary men are often the
issue of a childhood by no means so promising.

Be content, therefore, with moderate measures
and moderate results. Constantly bear in mind
the fact that a higher morality, like a higher intelli-
gence, must be reached by a slow growth ; and
you will then have more patience with those imper-
fections of nature which your child hourly displays.
You will be less prone to that constant scolding,
and threatening, and forbidding, by which many
parents induce a chronic domestic irritation, in the
foolish hope that they will thus make their chil-
dren what they should be.

This comparatively liberal form of domestic
government, which does not seek despotically to
regulate all the details of a child's conduct, neces-
sarily results from the system for which we have
been contending. Satisfy yourself with seeing that
your child always suffers the natural consequences
of his actions, and you will avoid that excess of
control in which so many parents err. Leave him
wherever you can to the discipline of experience,
and you will so save him from that hothouse virtue
which over-regulation produces in yielding natures,
or that demoralizing antagonism which it produces
in independent ones.

208 MORAL EDUCATION.

By aiming in all cases to administer the natural
reactions to your child's actions, you will put an
advantageous check upon your own temper. The
method of moral education pursued by many, we
fear by most, parents, is little else than that of
venting their anger in the way that first suggests
itself. The slaps, and rough shakings, and sharp
words, with which a mother commonly visits her
offspring's small offences (many of them not of-
fences considered intrinsically), are ver}r generally
but the manifestations of her own ill-controlled
feelings — result much more from the promptings of
those feelings than from a wish to benefit the
offenders. While they are injurious to her own
character, these ebullitions tend, by alienating her
children and by decreasing their respect for her, to
diminish her influence over them. But by pausing
in each case of transgression to consider what is
the natural consequence, and how that natural con-
sequence may best be brought home to the trans-
gressor, some little time is necessarily obtained for
the mastery of yourself; the mere blind anger first
aroused in you settles down into a less vehement
feeling, and one not so likely to mislead you.

Do not, however, seek to behave as an utterly
passionless instrument. Remember that besides
the natural consequences of your child's conduct
which the working of things tends to bring round
on him, your own approbation or disapprobation is
also a natural consequence, and one of the ordained
agencies for guiding him. The error which we

CAUTIOUS USE OF PARENTAL DISPLEASURE. 209

have been combating is that of substituting parental
displeasure and its artificial penalties, for the pen-
alties which nature has established. But while it
should not be substituted for these natural penalties,
it by no means follows that it should not, in some
form, accompany them. The secondary kind of
punishment should not usurp the place of the
primary kind ; but, in moderation, it may rightly
supplement the primary kind. Such amount of dis-
approval, or sorrow, or indignation, as you feel,
should be expressed in words or manner or other-
wise; subject, of course, to the approval of your
judgment. The degree and kind of feeling pro-
duced in you will necessarily depend upon your
own character, and it is therefore useless to say it
should be this or that. All that can be recom-
mended is, that you should aim to modify the feel-
ing into that which you believe ought to be enter-
tained. Beware, however, of the two extremes;
not only in respect of the intensity, but in respect
of the duration of your displeasure. On the one
hand, anxiously avoid that weak impulsiveness, so
general among mothers, which scolds and forgives
almost in the same breath. On the other hand, do
not unduly continue to show estrangement of fleet-
ing, lest you accustom your child to do without
your friendship, and so lose your influence over
him. The moral reactions called forth from you by
your child's actions, you should as much as possi-
ble assimilate to those which you conceive would
be called forth from a parent of perfect nature.

210 MORAL EDUCATION.

Be sparing of commands. Command only in
those cases in which other means are inapplicable,
or have failed. " In frequent orders the parents'
advantage is more considered than the child's,"
says Richter. As in primitive societies a breach
of law is punished, not so much because it is in-
trinsically wrong as because it is a disregard of the
king's authority — a rebellion against him ; so in
many families, the penalty visited on a transgressor
proceeds less from reprobation of the offence than
from anger at the disobedience. Listen to the ordi-
nary speeches — " How dare you disobey met " "I
tell you I'll make' you. do it, sir." " I'll soon teach
you who is master " — and then consider what the
words, the tone, and the manner imply. A deter-
mination to subjugate is much more conspicuous in
them than an anxiety for the child's welfare. For
the time being the attitude of mind differs but little
from that of the despot bent on punishing a recalci-
trant subject. The right-feeling parent, however,
like the philanthropic legislator, will not rejoice in
coercion, but will rejoice in dispensing with coercion.
He will do without law in all cases where other
modes of regulating conduct can be successfully em-
ployed ; and he will regret the having recourse to
law when it is necessary. As Richter remarks —
"The best rule in politics is said to be lj?as trop
gouvemer ; ' it is also true in education." And in
spontaneous conformity with this maxim, parents
whose lust of dominion is restrained by a true sense
of duty, will aim to make their children control

WISE PENALTIES, BUT INEVITABLE. 211

themselves wherever it is possible, and will fall back
upon absolutism only as a last resort.

But whenever you do command, command with
decision and consistency. If the case is one which
really cannot be otherwise dealt with, then issue
your fiat, and having issued it, never afterwards
swerve from it. Consider well beforehand what
you are going to do ; weigh all the consequences ;
think whether your firmness of purpose will be
sufficient ; and then, if you finally make the law,
enforce it uniformly at whatever cost. Let your
penalties be like the penalties inflicted by inani-
mate nature — inevitable. The hot cinder burns a
child the first time he seizes it ; it burns him the
second time ; it burns him the third time ; it burns
him every time ; and he very soon learns not to
touch the hot cinder. If you are equally consist-
ent— if the consequences which you tell your child
will follow certain acts, follow with like uniformity,
he will soon come to respect your laws as he does
those of Nature. And this respect once established
will prevent endless domestic evils. Of errors in
education one of the worst is that of inconsistency.
As in a community, crimes multiply when there is
no certain administration of justice ; so in a fami-
ly, an immense increase of transgressions results
from a hesitating or irregular infliction of penal-
ties. A weak mother, who perpetually threatens
and rarely performs — who makes rules in haste and
repents of them at leisure — who treats the same
offence now with severity and now with leniency,

212 MORAL EDUCATION.

according as the passing humour dictates, is laying
up miseries both for herself and her children. She
is making herself contemptible in their eyes ; she
is setting them an example of uncontrolled feel-
ings ; she is encouraging them to transgress by the
prospect of probable impunity ; she is entailing
endless squabbles and accompanying damage to
her own temper and the tempers of her little ones ;
she is reducing their minds to a moral chaos, which
after-years of bitter experience will with difficulty
bring into order. Better even a barbarous form of
domestic government carried out consistently, than
a humane one inconsistently carried out. Again
we say, avoid coercive measures whenever it is
possible to do so ; but when you find despotism
really necessary, be despotic in good earnest.

Bear constantly in mind the truth that the aim
of your discipline should be to produce a self-gov-
erning being ; not to produce a being to be gov-
erned hy others. Were your children fated to pass
their lives as slaves, you could not too much accus-
tom them to slavery during their childhood ; but
as they are by-and-by to be free men, with no one
to control their daily conduct, you cannot too much
accustom them to self-control wThile they are still
under your eye. This it is which makes the sys-
tem of discipline by natural consequences, so espe-
cially appropriate to the social state which we in
England have now reached. Under early, tyran-
nical forms of society, when one of the chief evils
the citizen had to fear was the anger of his supe-

PROGRESSIVE NEED OF SELF-GOVERNMENT. 213

riors, it was well that during childhood parental
vengeance should be a predominant means of gov-
ernment. But now that the citizen has little to
fear from any one — now that the good or evil which
he experiences throughout life is mainly that which
in the nature of things results from his own con-
duct, it is desirable that from his first years he
should begin to learn, experimentally, the good or
evil consequences which naturally follow this or
that conduct. Aim, therefore, to diminish the
amount of parental government as fast as you can
substitute for it in your child's mind that self-gov-
ernment arising from a foresight of results. In in-
fancy a considerable amount of absolutism is ne-
cessary. A three-year old urchin playing with an
open razor, cannot be allowed to learn by this dis-
cipline of consequences ; for the consequences may,
in such a case, be too serious. But as intelligence
increases, the number of instances calling for per-
emptory interference may be, and should be, di-
minished ; with the view of gradually ending them
as maturity is approached. All periods of transi-
tion are dangerous ; and the most dangerous is the
transition from the restraint of the family circle to
the non-restraint of the world. Hence the impor
tance of pursuing the policy we advocate ; which,
alike by cultivating a child's faculty of self-restraint,
by continually increasing the degree in which it is
left to its self-constraint, and by so bringing it, step
by step, to a state of unaided self-restraint, obliter-
ates the ordinary sudden and hazardous change

214 MORAL EDUCATION.

from externally-governed youth to internally-gov-
erned maturity. Let the history of your domestic
rule typify, in little, the history of our political
rule : at the outset, autocratic control, where con-
trol is really needful ; by-and-by an incipient con-
stitutionalism, in which the liberty of the subject
gains some express recognition ; successive exten-
sions of this liberty of the subject ; gradually end-
ing in parental abdication.

Do not regret the exhibition of considerable
self-will on the part of your children. It is the
correlative of that diminished coerciveness so con-
spicuous in modern education. The greater ten.
dency to assert freedom of action on the one side,
corresponds to the smaller tendency to tyrannize on
the other. They both indicate an approach to the
system of discipline we contend for, under which
children will be more and more led to rule them-
selves by the experience of natural consequences ;
and they are both the accompaniments of our more
advanced social state. The independent English
boy is the father of the independent English man •
and you cannot have the last without the first.
German teachers say that they had rather manage
a dozen German boys than one English one. Shall
we, therefore, wish that our boys had the managea-
bleness of the German ones, and with it the sub-
missiveness and political serfdom of adult Ger-
mans ? Or shall we not rather tolerate in our boys
those feelings which make them free men, and
modify our methods accordingly ?

NECESSITY OF PARENTAL DISCRIMINATION. 215

Lastly, always remember that to educate rightly
is not a simple and easy thing, but a complex and
extremely difficult thing : the hardest task which
devolves upon adult life. The rough and ready
style of domestic government is indeed practicable
by the meanest and most uncultivated intellects.
Slaps and sharp words are penalties that suggest
themselves alike to the least reclaimed barbarian
and the most stolid peasant. Even brutes can use
this method of discipline; as you may see in the
growl and half-bite with wrhich a bitch will check
a too-exigeant puppy. But if you would carry out
with success a rational and civilized system, you
must be prepared for considerable mental exertion
— for some study, some ingenuity, some patience,
some self-control. You will have habitually to
trace the consequences of conduct — to consider
what are the results which in adult life follow
certain kind of acts ; and then you will have to
devise methods by which parallel results shall be
entailed on the parallel acts of your children.
You will daily be called upon to analyze the mo-
tives of juvenile conduct: you must distinguish
between acts that are really good and those which,
though externally simulating them, proceed from
inferior impulses ; while you must be ever on your
guard against the cruel mistake not unfrequently
made, of translating neutral acts into transgres-
sions, or ascribing worse feelings than were enter-
tained. You must more or less modify your method
to suit the disposition of each child ; and must be

216 MORAL EDUCATION.

prepared to make further modifications as each
child's disposition enters on a new phase. Your
faith will often be taxed to maintain the requisite
perseverance in a course which seems to produce
little or no effect. Especially if you are dealing
with children who have been wrongly treated, you
must be prepared for a lengthened trial of patience
before succeeding with better methods ; seeing that
that which is not easy even where a right state of
feeling has been established from the beginning,
becomes doubly difficult when a wrong state of
feeling has to be set right. Not only will you have
constantly to analyze the motives of your children,
but you will have to analyze your own motives —
to discriminate between those internal suggestions
springing from a true parental solicitude, and those
which spring from your own selfishness, from your
love of ease, from your lust of dominion. And
then, more trying still, you will have not only to
detect, but to curb these baser impulses. In brief,
you will have to carry on your higher education at
the same time that you are educating your chil-
dren. Intellectually you must cultivate to good
purpose that most complex of subjects — human na-
ture and its laws, as exhibited in your children, in
yourself, and in the world. Morally, you must
keep in constant exercise your higher feelings, and
restrain your lower. It is a truth yet remaining to
be recognised, that the last stage in the mental de-
velopment of each man and woman is to be reached
only through the proper discharge of the parental

THE HIGH DISCIPLINE OF PABENTHOOD. 217

duties. And when this truth is recognised, it will
be seen how admirable is the ordination in virtue
of which human beings are led by their strongest
affections to subject themselves to a discipline
which they would else elude.

While some will probably regard this concep-
tion of education as it should be, with doubt and
discouragement, others will, we think, perceive in
the exalted ideal which it involves, evidence of its
truth. That it cannot be realized by the impulsive,
the unsympathetic, and the short-sighted, but de-
mands the higher attributes of human nature, they
will see to be evidence of its fitness for the more
advanced states of humanity. Though it calls for
much labour and self-sacrifice, they will see that
it promises an abundant return of happiness, im-
mediate and remote. They will see that while in
its injurious effects on both parent and child a bad
system is twice cursed, a good system is twice
blessed — it blesses him that trains and him that's
trained.

It will be seen that we have said nothing in
this Chapter about the transcendental distinction
between right and wrong, of which wise men know
so little, and children nothing. All thinkers are
agreed that we may find the criterion of right in
the effect of actions, if we do not find the rule
there ; and that is sufficient for the purpose we
have had in view. Nor have we introduced the
religious element. We have confined our inquiries

218 MORAL EDUCATION.

to a nearer, and a much more neglected field,
though a very important one. Our readers may
supplement our thoughts in any way they please ;
we are only concerned that they should be accepted
as far as they go.

CHAPTEE IV.

PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

Equally at the squire's table after the with-
drawal of the ladies, at the farmers' market-ordi-
nary, and at the village ale-house, the topic which,
after the political question of the day, excites per-
haps the most general interest, is the management
of animals. Riding home from hunting, the con-
versation is pretty sure to gravitate towards horse-
breeding, and pedigrees, and comments on this or
that ' good point ; ' while a day on the moors is
very unlikely to pass without something being said
on the treatment of dogs. When crossing the
fields together from church, the tenants of adjacent
farms are apt to pass from criticisms on the ser-
mon to criticisms on the weather, the crops, and
the stock ; and thence to slide into discussions on
the various kinds of fodder and their feeding quali-
ties. Hodge and Giles, after comparing notes over
their respective pig-styes, show by their remarks
that they have been more or less observant of their
masters' beasts and sheep ; and of the effects pro-
duced on them by this or that kind of treatment.
Nor is it only among the rural population that the
regulations of the kennel, the stable, the cow-shed,

UJrf

220 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

and the sheep-pen, are favourite subjects. In
towns, too, the numerous artisans who keep dogs,
the young men who are rich enough to now and
then indulge their sporting tendencies, and their
more staid seniors who talk over agricultural pro-
gress or read Mr. Mechi's annual reports and Mr.
Caird's letters to the Times, form, when added to-
gether, a large portion of the inhabitants. Take
the adult males throughout the kingdom, and a
great majority will be found to show some interest
in the breeding, rearing, or training of animals, of

^ one kind or other.

— But, during after-dinner conversations, or at
other times of like intercourse, who hears anything
said about the rearing of children ? When the
country gentleman has paid his daily visit to the
stable, and personally inspected the condition and
treatment of his horses ; when he has glanced at
his minor live stock, and given directions about
them; how often does he go up to the nursery and
examine into its dietary, its hours, its ventilation ?
On his library shelves may be found White's Far-
riery, Stephen's Book of the Farm, Nimrod on the
Condition of Hunters ; and with the contents of
these he is more or less familiar ; but how many
books has he read on the management of infancy
and childhood ? The fattening properties of oil-
cake, the relative values of hay and chopped straw,
the dangers of unlimited clover, are points on
which every landlord, farmer, and peasant has
some knowledge; but what proportion of them

IMPROVEMENT OF INFERIOR ANIMALS. 221

know much about the qualities of the food they
give their children, and its fitness to the constitu-
tional needs of growing boys and girls ? Perhaps
the business interests of these classes will be as-
signed as accounting for this anomaly. The explana'
tion is inadequate, however ; seeing that the same
contrast holds more or less among other classes.
Of a score of townspeople few, if any, would
prove ignorant of the fact that it is undesirable to
work a horse soon after it has eaten ; and yet, of
this same score, supposing them all to be fathers,
probably not one would be found who had consid-
ered whether the time elapsing between his chil-
dren's dinner and their resumption of lessons was
sufficient. Indeed, on cross-examination, nearly
every man would disclose the latent opinion that
the regimen of the nursery was no concern of his.
" Oh, I leave all those things to the women," would
probably be the reply. And in most cases the tone
and manner of this reply would convey the impli-
cation, that such cares are not consistent with mas-
culine dignity.

Consider the fact from any but the conventional
point of view, and it will seem strange that while
the raising of first-rate bullocks is an occupation
on which men of education willingly bestow much
time, inquiry, and thought, the bringing up of fine
human beings is an occupation tacitly voted un-
worthy of their attention. Mammas who have
been taught little but languages, music, and accom-
plishments, aided by nurses full of antiquated pre-

PHY8ICAL EDUCATION.

judices, are held competent regulators of the food,
clothing, and exercise of children. Meanwhile the
fathers read books and periodicals, attend agricul-
tural meetings, try experiments, and engage in dis-
cussions, all with the view of discovering how to
fatten prize pigs ! Infinite pains will be taken to
produce a racer that shall win the Derby : none to
produce a modern athlete. Had Gulliver narrated
of the Laputans that the men vied with each other
in learning how best to rear the offspring of other
creatures, and were careless of learning how best
to rear their own offspring, he would have paral-
leled any of the other absurdities he ascribes to
them.

The matter is a serious one, however. Ludi-
crous as is the antithesis, the fact it expresses is not
less d'sistrous. As remarks a suggestive writer,
the first requisite to success in life is " to be a good
animal ;" and to be a nation of good animals is the
first condition to national prosperity. Not only is
it that the event of a war often turns on the strength
and hardiness of soldiers ; but it is that the con-
tests of commerce are in part determined by the
bodily endurance of producers. Thus far we have
found no reason to fear trials of strength with other
races in either of these fields. But there are not
wanting signs that our powers will presently be
taxed to the uttermost. Already under the keen
competition of modern life, the application required
of almost every one is such as few can bear with'
out more or less injury. Already thousands break

SCHOOL OF "MU8CULAK CHRISTIANITY." 223

down under the high pressure they are subject to.
If this pressure continues to increase, as it seems
likely to do, it will try severely all but the sound-
est constitutions. Hence it is becoming of especial
importance that the training of children should be
so carried on, as not only to fit them mentally for
the struggle before them, but also to make them
physically fit to bear its excessive wear and tear.

Happily the matter is beginning to attract at-
tention. The writings of Mr. Kingsley indicate a
reaction against over-culture ; carried, as reactions
usually are, somewhat too far. Occasional letters
and leaders in the newspapers have shown an
awakening interest in physical training. And the
formation of a school, significantly nicknamed that
of " muscular Christianity," implies a growing
opinion that our present methods of bringing up
children do not sufficiently regard the welfare of the
body. The topic is evidently ripe for discussion.

To conform the regimen of the nursery and the
school to the established truths of modern science
— this is the desideratum. It is time that the ben-
efits which our sheep and oxen have for years past
derived from the investigations of the laboratory,
should be participated in by our children. With-
out calling in question the great importance of
horse-training and pig-feeding, we would suggest
that, as the rearing of well-grown men and women
is also of some moment, the conclusions indicated
by theory, and endorsed by practice, ought to bo

acted on in the last case as in the first. Probably
10

224 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

not a few will be startled— perhaps offended — by
this collocation of ideas. But it is a fact not to be
disputed, and to which we had best reconcile our-
selves, that man is subject to the same organic
laws as inferior creatures. No anatomist, no phys-
iologist, no chemist, will for a moment hesitate to
assert, that the general principles which rule over
the vital processes in animals equally rule over the
vital processes in man. And a candid admission
of this fact is not without its reward : namely, that
the truths established by observation and experi-
ment on brutes, become more or less available for
human guidance. Rudimentary as is the Science
of Life, it has already attained to certain funda-
mental principles underlying the development of
all organisms, the human included. That which
has now to be done, and that which we shall en-
deavour in some measure to do, is to show the
bearing of these fundamental principles upon the
physical training of childhood and youth.

The rhythmical tendency which is traceable in
all departments of social life — which is illustrated
in the access of despotism after revolution, or, among
ourselves, in the alternation of reforming epochs and
conservative epochs — which, after a dissolute age,
brings an age of asceticism, and conversely — which,
in commerce, produces the regularly recurring in-
flations and panics — which carries the devotees of
fashion from one absurd extreme to the opposite
one ; — this rhythmical tendency affects also our

DIETARY REACTIONS. 225

table-habits, and by implication, the dietary of the
young. After a period distinguished by hard drink-
ing and hard eating, has come a period of compara-
tive sobriety, which, in teetotalism and vegetarian-
ism, exhibits extreme forms of its protest against the
riotous living of the past. And along with this
change in the regimen of adults, has come a paral-
lel change in the regimen for boys and girls. In
past generations, the belief was, that the more a
child could be induced to eat, the better ; and even
now, among farmers and in remote districts, where
traditional ideas most linger, parents may be found
who tempt their children to gorge themselves. But
among the educated classes, who chiefly display this
reaction towards abstemiousness, there may be seen
a decided leaning to the under-feeding, rather than
the overfeeding, of children. Indeed their disgust
for bygone animalism, is more clearly shown in the
treatment of their offspring than in the treatment
of themselves ; seeing that while their disguised
asceticism is, in so far as their personal conduct is
concerned, kept in check by their appetites, it has
full play in legislating for juveniles.

That over-feeding and under-feeding are both
bad, is a truism. Of the two, however, the last is
the worst. As writes a high authority, " the effects
of casual repletion are less prejudicial, and more
easily corrected, than those of inanition." * Add
to which, that where there has been no injudicious
interference, repletion will seldom occur. " Excess

* Cyclopadia of Practical Medicine.

PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

is the vice rather of adults than of the young, who
are rarely either gourmands or epicures, unless
through the fault of those who rear them." * This
system of restriction which many parents think so
necessary, is based upon very inadequate observa-
tion, and very erroneous reasoning. There is an
over-legislation in the nursery, as well as an over-
legislation in the State ; and one of the most injuri-
ous forms of it is this limitation in the quantity of
food.

" But are children to be allowed to surfeit them-
selves? Shall they be suffered to take their till ot
dainties and make themselves ill, as they certainly
will do?" As thus put, the question admits of but
one reply. But as thus put, it assumes the point at
issue. "We contend that, as appetite is a good guide
to all the lower creation — as it is a good guide to
the infant — as it is a good guide to the invalid — as
it is a good guide to the differently-placed races of
men, and as it is a good guide for every adult who
leads a healthful life ; it may safely be inferred that
it is a good guide for childhood. It would be
strange indeed were it here alone untrustworthy.

Probably not a few will read this reply with
some impatience ; being able, as they think, to cite
facts totally at variance with it. It will appear
absurd if we deny the relevancy of these facts ; and
yet the paradox is quite defensible. The truth is,
that the instances of excess which such persons
have in mind, are usually the consequences of the

* Cyclopaedia of Practical Medicine.

GUIDANCE OF APPETITE IN CHILDHOOD. 227

restrictive system they seem to justify. They are jr^ *
the sensual reactions caused by a more or less asce-
tic regimen. They illustrate on a small scale that
commonly remarked fact, that those who during
youth have been subject to the most rigorous dis-
cipline, are apt afterwards to rush into the wildest
extravagances. They are analogous to those fright'
ful phenomena, once not uncommon in convents,
where nuns suddenly lapsed from the extremest
austerities into an almost demoniac wickedness.
They simply exhibit the uncontrollable vehemence
of a long-denied desire. Consider the ordinary
tastes and the ordinary treatment of children. The
love of sweets is conspicuous and almost universal
among them. Probably ninety-nine people in a
hundred, presume that there is nothing more in this
than gratification of the palate ; and that, in com-
mon with other sensual desires, it should be dis-
couraged. The physiologist, however, whose dis-
coveries lead him to an ever-increasing reverence
for the arrangements of things, will suspect that
there is something more in this love of sweets than
the current hypothesis supposes ; and a little in-
quiry confirms the suspicion. Any work on organic
chemistry shows that sugar plays an important part
in the vital processes. Both saccharine and fatty
matters are eventually oxidized in the body ; and
there is an accompanying evolution of heat. Sugar
is the form to which sundry other compounds have
to be reduced before they are available as heat-
making food ; and this formation of sugar is carried

228 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

on in the body. Not only is starch changed into
6ugar in the course of digestion, but it has been
proved by M. Claude Bernard that the liver is a
factory in which other constituents of food are trans-
formed into sugar. Noav, when to the fact that
children have a marked desire for this valuable
heat-food, we join the fact that they have usually a
marked dislike to that food which gives out the
greatest amount of heat during its oxidation (name-
ly, fat), we shall see strong reason for thinking that
excess of the one compensates for defect of the other
— that the organism demands more sugar because
it cannot deal with much fat. Again, children are
usually very fond of vegetable acids. Fruits of all
kinds are their delight ; and, in the absence of any-
thing better, they will devour unripe gooseberries and
the sourest of crabs. Now, not only are vegetable
acids, in common with mineral ones, very good
tonics, and beneficial as such when taken in modera-
tion ; but they have, when administered in their
natural forms, other advantages. " Ripe fruit,"
says Dr. Andrew Combe, " is more freely given on
the Continent than in this country ; and, particularly
when the bowels act imperfectly, it is often very
useful." See, then, the discord between the instinc-
tive wants of children and their habitual treatment.
Here are two dominant desires, which there is good
reason to believe express certain needs of the juve-
nile constitution ; and not only are they ignored in
the nursery regimen, but there is a general ten-
dency to forbid the gratification of them. Bread'

RESTRICTED DIET PROVOKES EXCESS. 229

and-milk in the morning, tea and bread-and-butter
at night, or some dietary equally insipid, is rigidly
adhered to ; and any ministration to the palate is
thought not only needless but wrong. What is the
necessary consequence ? When, on fete-days there
is an unlimited access to good things — when a gift
of pocket-money brings the contents of the confec-
tioner's window within reach, or when by some
accident the free run of a fruit-garden is obtained ;
then the long-denied, and therefore intense, desires
lead to great excesses. There is an impromptu
carnival, caused not only by the release from past
restraints, but also by the consciousness that a long
Lent will begin on the morrow. And then, when
the evils of repletion display themselves, it is
argued that children must not be left to the guid-
ance of their appetites ! These disastrous results of
artificial restrictions, are themselves cited as prov-
ing the need for further restrictions ! We contend,
therefore, that the reasoning commonly used to
justify this system of interference is vicious. We
contend that, were children allowed daily to par-
take of these more sapid edibles, for which there is
a physiological requirement, they would rarely ex-
ceed, as they now mostly do tfhen they have the
opportunity : were fruit, as Dr. Combe recommends,
" to constitute a part of the regular food " (given, as
he advises, not between meals, but along with
them), there would be none of that craving which
prompts the devouring of such fruits as crabs and
eloes. And similarly in other cases.

230 PHY8ICAL EDUCATION.

Not only is it that the a priori reasons for trust-
ing the appetites of children are so strong; and
that the reasons assigned for distrusting them are
invalid ; but it is that no other guidance is worthy
of any confidence. What is the value of this pa-
rental judgment, set up as an alternative regulator?
"When to " Oliver asking for more," the mamma or
the governess replies in the negative, on what data
does she proceed ? She thinks he has had enough.
But where are her grounds for so thinking ? Has
she some secret understanding with the boy's
stomach — some clairvoyant power enabling her to
discern the needs of his body ? If not, how can she
safely decide ? Does she not know that the demand
of the system for food is determined by numerous
and involved causes—- varies with the temperature,
with the hygrometric state of the air, with the elec-
tric state of the air — varies also according to the
exercise taken, according to the kind and quality of
food eaten at the last meal, and according to the
rapidity with which the last meal was digested ?
How can she calculate the result of such a combina-
tion of causes ? As we heard said by the father of
a five-years-old boy, who stands a head taller than
most of his age, and is proportionately robust, rosy,
and active : — " I can see no artificial standard by
which to mete out his food. If I say, ' this much is
enough,' it is a mere guess ; and the guess is as like-
ly to be wrong as right. Consequently, having no
faith in guesses, I let him eat his fill." And cer-
tainly, any one judging of his policy by its effects,

NATURE AND INSTINCT TO BE TRUSTED. 231

would be constrained to admit its wisdom. In truth,
this confidence, with which most parents take upon
themselves to legislate for the stomachs of their
children, proves their unacquaintance with the
principles of physiology : if they knew more, they
would be more modest. "The pride of science is
humble when compared with the pride of igno-
rance." If any one would learn how little faith is to
be placed in human judgments, and how much in
the pre-established arrangements of things, let him
compare the rashness of the inexperienced physician
with the caution of the most advanced ; or let him
dip into Sir John Forbes' work, On Nature and Art
in the Cure of Disease ; and he will then see that,
in proportion as men gain a greater knowledge of
the laws of life, they come to have less confidence
in themselves, and more in Nature.

Turning from the question of quantity of food to
that of quality, we may discern the same ascetic
tendency. Not 6imply a more or less restricted
diet, but a comparatively low diet, is thought
proper for children. The current opinion is, that
they should have but little animal food. Among
the less wealthy classes, economy seems to have
dictated this opinion — the wish has been father to
the thought. Parents not affording to buy much
meat, and liking meat themselves, answer the peti-
tions of juveniles with — " Meat is not good for little
boys and girls ;" and this, at first, probably nothing
but a convenient excuse, has by repetition grown
into an article of faith. While the classes with

232 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

whom cost is not a consideration, have been swayed
partly by the example of the majority, partly by
the influence of nurses drawn from the lower classes,
and in some measure by the reaction against past
animalism.

If, however, we inquire for the basis of this
opinion, we find little or none. It is a dogma re-
peated and received without proof, like that which,
for thousands of years, insisted on the necessity of
swaddling-clothes. It may indeed be true that, to
the young child's stomach, not yet endowed with
much muscular power, meat, which requires con-
siderable trituration before it can be made into
chyme, is an unfit aliment. But this objection
does not tell against animal food from which the
fibrous part has been extracted ; nor does it apply
when, after the lapse of two or three years, consid-
erable muscular vigour has been acquired. And
while the evidence in support of this dogma, par-
tially valid in the case of very young children, ia
not valid in the case of older children, who are;
nevertheless, ordinarily treated in conformity with
the dogma, the adverse evidence is abundant and
conclusive. The verdict of science is exactly oppo-
site to the popular opinion. We have put the ques-
tion to two of our leading physicians, and to sev-
eral of the most distinguished physiologists, and
they uniformly agree in the conclusion, that chil-
dren should have a diet not less nutritive, but, if
anything, more nutritive than that of adults.

The grounds for this conclusion are obvious, and

CHILDREN REQUIRE A NUTRITIVE DIET. 233

the reasoning simple. It needs but to compare
the vital processes of a man with those of a boy, to
see at once that the demand for sustenance is rela-
tively greater in the boy than in the man. What
are the ends for which a man requires food ? Each
day his body undergoes more or less wear — wear
through muscular exertion, wear of the nervous
system through mental actions, wear of the viscera
in carrying on the functions of life ; and the tissue
thus wasted has to be renewed. Each day, too, by
perpetual radiation, his body loses a large amount
of heat ; and as, for the continuance of the vital
actions, the temperature of the body must be main-
tained, this loss has to be compensated by a con-
stant production of heat: to which end certain con-
stituents of the food are unceasingly undergoing
oxidation. To make up for the day's waste, and to
supply fuel for the day's expenditure of heat, are,
then, the sole purposes for which the adult requires
food. Consider, now, the case of the boy. He,
too, wastes the substance of his body by action ;
and it needs but to note his restless activity to see
that, in proportion to his bulk, he probably wastes
as much as a man. He, too, loses heat by radia-
tion ; and, as his body exposes a greater surface in
proportion to its mass than does that of a man, and
therefore loses heat more rapidly, the quantity of
heat-food he requires is, bulk for bulk, greater than
that required by a man. So that even had the boy
no other vital processes to carry on than the man
has, he would need, relatively to his size, a some'

234: PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

what larger supply of nutriment. But, besides re-
pairing his body and maintaining its heat, the boy
has to make new tissue — to grow. After waste
and thermal loss have been provided for, such sur-
plus of nutriment as remains, goes to the further
building up of the frame ; and only in virtue of this
surplus is normal growth possible — the growth that
sometimes takes place in the absence of such sur-
plus, causing a manifest prostration consequent up-
on defective repair. How peremptory is the de-
mand of the unfolding organism for materials, is
seen alike in that " school-boy hunger," which
after-life rarely parallels in intensity, and in the
comparatively quick return of appetite. And if
there needs further evidence of this extra necessity
for nutriment, we have it in the fact that, during
the famines following shipwrecks and other disas-
ters, the children are the first to die.

This relatively greater need for nutriment be-
ing admitted, as it must perforce be, the question
that remains is — shall we meet it by giving an ex-
cessive quantity of what may be called dilute
food, or a more moderate quantity of concentrated
food? The nutriment obtainable from a given
weight of meat is obtainable only from a larger
weight of bread, or from a still larger weight of
potatoes, and so on. To fulfil the requirement,
the quantity must be increased as the nutritiveness
is diminished. Shall we, then, respond to the ex-
tra wants of the growing child by giving an ade-
quate quantity of food as good as that of adults ?

ECONOMISING THE LABOUR OF DIGESTION. 235

Or, regardless of the fact that its stomach has to
dispose of a relatively larger quantity even of this
good food, shall we further tax it by giving an in-
ferior food in still greater quantity?

The answer is tolerably obvious. The more
the labour of digestion can be economised, the
more energy is left for the purposes of growth and
action. The functions of the stomach and intes-
tines cannot be performed without a large supply
of blood and nervous power ; and in the compara-
tive lassitude that follows a hearty meal, every
adult has proof that this supply of blood and nerv-
ous power is at the expense of the system at large.
If the requisite nutriment is furnished by a great
quantity of innutritious food, more work is entailed
on the viscera than when it is furnished by a
moderate quantity of nutritious food. This extra
work is so much sheer loss — a loss which in chil-
dren shows itself either in diminished energy, or in
smaller growth, or in both. The inference is, then,
that they should have a diet which combines, as
much as possible, nutritiveness and digestibility.

It is doubtless true that boys and girls may be
brought up upon an exclusively, or almost exclu-
sively, vegetable diet. Among the upper classes
are to be found children to whom comparatively
little meat is given ; and who, nevertheless, grow
and appear in good health. Animal food is scarce-
ly tasted by the offspring of labouring people; and
yet they reach a healthy maturity. But these
seemingly adverse facts have by no means the

236 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

weight commonly supposed. In the first place, it
does not follow that those who in early years
flourish on bread and potatoes, will eventually
reach a fine development; and a comparison be-
tween the agricultural labourers and the gentry, in
England, or between the middle and lower classes
in France, is by no means in favour of vegetable
feeders. In the second place, the question is not
only a question of bulk, but also a question of
quality. A soft, flabby flesh makes as good a show
as a firm one ; but though to the careless eye, a
child of full, flaccid tissue may appear the equal
of one whose fibres are well toned, a trial of
strength will prove the difference. Obesity in ad ults
is often a sign of feebleness. Men lose weight in
training. And hence the appearance of these low-
fed children is by no means conclusive. In the
third place, not only size, but energy has to be pon-
sidered. Between children of the meat-eating
classes and those of the bread-and-potato-eating
classes, there is a marked contrast in this respect.
Both in mental and physical vivacity the low-fed
peasant-boy is greatly inferior to the better-fed son
of a gentleman.

If we compare different classes of animals, or
different races of men, or the same animals or men
when differently fed, we find still more distinct
proof that the degree of energy essentially depends
on the nutritiveness of the food.

In a cow, subsisting on so innutritive a food as
grass, we see that the immense quantity required

EFFECTS OF CONCENTRATED FOOD. 237

to he eaten necessitates an enormous digestive sys-
tem ; that the limbs, small in comparison with the
body, are burdened by its weight ; that in carrying
about this heavy body and digesting this excessive
quantity of food, a great amount of force is ex-
pended ; and that, having but little energy remain-
ing, the creature is sluggish. Compare with the
cow a horse — an animal of nearly allied structure,
but adapted to a more concentrated food. Here
we see that the body, and more especially its ab-
dominal region, bears a much smaller ratio to the
limbs ; that the powers are not taxed by the sup-
port of such massive viscera, nor the digestion of
so bulky a food ; and that, as a consequence, there
is great locomotive energy and considerable vivaci-
ty. If, again, we contrast the stolid inactivity of
the graminivorous sheep with the liveliness of the
dog, subsisting upon flesh or farinaceous food, or a
mixture of the two, we see a difference similar in
kind, but still greater in degree. And after walk-
ing through the Zoological Gardens, and noting the
restlessness with which the carnivorous animals
pace up and down their cages, it needs but to re-
member that none of the herbivorous animals
habitually display this superfluous energy, to see
how clear is the relation between concentration of
food and degree of activity.

That these differences are not directly consequent
upon differences of constitution, as some may argue ;
but are directly consequent upon differences in the
food which the creatures are constituted to subsist

1238 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

on ; is proved by the fact, that they are observable
between different divisions of the same species.
Take the case of mankind. The Australians, Bush-
men, and others of the lowest savages who live on
roots and berries, varied by larvae of insects and
the like meagre fare, are comparatively puny in
6tature, have large abdomens, soft and undeveloped
muscles, and are quite unable to cope witli Euro-
peans, either in a struggle or in prolonged exertion.
Count up the wild races who are well grown,
strong and active, as the Kaffirs, North- American
Indians, and Patagonians, and you find them large
consumers of flesh. The ill-fed Hindoo goes down
before the Englishman fed on more nutritive food ;
to whom he is as inferior in mental as in physical
energy. And generally, we think, the history of
the world shows that the well-fed races have been
the energetic and dominant races.

Still stronger, however, becomes the argument,
when we find that the same individual animal be-
comes capable of more or less exertion according
as its food is more or less nutritious. This has
been clearly demonstrated in the case of the horse.
Though flesh may be gained by a grazing horse,
strength is lost; as putting him to hard work
proves. " The consequence of turning horses out
to grass is relaxation of the muscular system."
" Grass is a very good preparation for a bullock for
Smithfield market, but a very bad one for a hunt-
er." It was well known of old that, after passing
the summer months in the fields, hunters required

DIET INFLUENCES ENERGY. 239

some months of stable-feeding before becoming able
to follow the hounds ; and that they did not get in-
to good condition until the beginning of the next
spring. And the modern practice is that insisted
on by Mr. Apperley — "Never to give a hunter
what is called ' a summer's run at grass,' and, ex-
cept under particular and very favourable circum-
stances, never to turn him out at all." That is to
say, never give him poor food : great energy and
endurance are to be obtained only by the continu-
ous use of very nutritive food. So true is this that,
as proved by Mr. Apperley, prolonged high-feed-
ing will enable a middling horse to equal, in his
performances, a first-rate horse fed in the ordinary
way. To which various evidences add the familiar
fact that, when a horse is required to do double
duty, it is the practice to give him beans — a food
containing a larger proportion of nitrogenous, or
flesh-making material, than his habitual oats.

Once more, in the case of individual men the
truth has been illustrated with equal, or still great-
er, clearness. We do not refer to men in training
for feats of strength, whose regimen, however,
thoroughly conforms to the doctrine. We refer to
the experience of railway contractors and their
labourers. It has been for years past a well-estab-
lished fact that the English navvy, eating largely
of flesh, is far more eflicient than a Continental
navvy living on a less nutritive food : so much more
eflicient, that English contractors for Continental
railways have habitually taken their labourers with

240 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

them. That difference of diet and not difference of
race caused this superiority, has been of late dis-
tinctly shown. For it has turned out, that when
the Continental navvies live in the same style as
their English competitors, they presently rise, more
or less nearly, to a par with them in efficiency. To
which fact let us here add the converse one, to which
we can give personal testimony based upon six
months' experience of vegetarianism, that abstinence
from meat entails diminished energy of both body
and mind.

Do not these various evidences distinctly en-
dorse our argument respecting the feeding of chil-
dren ? Do they not imply that, even supposing the
same stature and bulk to be attained on an innutri-
tive as on a nutritive diet, the quality of tissue is
greatly inferior ? Do they not establish the posi-
tion that, where energy as well as growth has to be
maintained, it can only be done by high feeding ?
Do they not confirm the d priori conclusion that,
though a child of whom little is expected in the
way of bodily or mental activity, may thrive tolerav
bly well on farinaceous substances, a child who is
daily required, not only to form the due amount of
new tissue, but to supply the waste consequent on
great muscular action, and the further waste con-
sequent on hard exercise of brain, must live on sub-
stances containing a larger ratio of nutritive matter ?
And is it not an obvious corollary, that denial of
this better food will be at the expense either of
growth, or of bodily activity, or of mental activity ;

children's diet should be varied. 241

as constitution and circumstances may determine ?
We believe no logical intellect will question it. To
think otherwise is to entertain in a disguised form
the old fallacy of the perpetual-motion schemers —
that it is possible to get power out of nothing.

Before leaving the question of food, a few words
must be said on another requisite — variety. In this
respect the dietary of the young is very faulty. If
not, like our soldiers, condemned to " twenty years
of boiled beef," our children have mostly to bear a
monotony which, though less extreme and less last-
ing, is quite as clearly at variance with the laws of
health. At dinner, it is true, they usually have food
that is more or less mixed, and that is changed day
by day. But week after week, month after month,
year after year, comes the same breakfast of bread-
and-milk, or, it may be, oatmeal porridge. And
with like persistence the day is closed, perhaps with
a second edition of the bread-and-milk, perhaps
with tea and bread-and-butter.

This practice is opposed to the dictates of physi-
ology. The satiety produced by an often-repeated
dish, and the gratification caused by one long a
stranger to the palate, are not meaningless, as many
carelessly assume ; but they are the incentives to a
wholesome diversity of diet. It is a fact, establish-
ed by numerous experiments, that there is scarcely
any one food, however good, which supplies in due
proportions or right forms all the elements required
for carrying on the vital processes in a normal man-
ner : from whence it is to be inferred that frequent

242 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

change of food is desirable to balance the supply of
all the elements. It is a further fact, well known
to physiologists, that the enjoyment given by a
much-liked food is a nervous stimulus, which, by
increasing the action of the heart and so propelling
the blood with increased vigour, aids in the sub-
sequent digestion. And these truths are in har-
mony with the maxims of modern cattle-feeding,
which dictate a rotation of diet.

Not only, however, is periodic change of food
very desirable ; but, for the same reasons, it is very
desirable that a mixture of food should be taken at
each meal. The better balance of ingredients, and
the greater nervous stimulation, are advantages
which hold here as before. If facts are asked for,
we may name as one, the comparative ease with
which the stomach disposes of a French dinner,
enormous in quantity but extremely varied in ma-
terial. Few will contend that an equal weight of
one kind of food, however well cooked, could be
digested with as much facility. If any desire
further facts, they may find them in every modern
book on the management of animals. Animals
thrive best when each meal is made up of several
things. And indeed, among men of science the truth
has been long ago established. The experiments of
Goss and Stark " aiford the most decisive proof of
the advantage, or rather the necessity, of a mixture of
substances, in order to produce the compound which
is the best adapted for the action of the stomach." *

* Cyclopaedia of Anatomy and Physiology.

CAUTION IN CHANGING DIET. 243

Should any object, as probably many will, that
a rotating dietary for children, and one which also
requires a mixture of food at each meal, would en-
tail too much trouble ; we reply, that no trouble is
thought too great which conduces to the mental
development of children, and that for their future
welfare, good bodily development is equally impor-
tant. Moreover, it seems alike sad and strange that
a trouble which is cheerfully taken in the fattening
of pigs, should be thought too great in the rearing
of children.

One more paragraph, with the view of warning
those who may propose to adopt the regimen indi-
cated. The change must not be made suddenly ;
for continued low-feeding so enfeebles the system,
as to disable it from at once dealing with a high
diet. Deficient nutrition is itself a cause of dyspep-
sia. This is true even of animals. "When calves
are fed with skimmed milk, or whey, or other poor
food, they are liable to indigestion." * Hence,
therefore, where the energies are low, the transition
to a generous diet must be gradual : each incrc
merit of strength gained, justifying a further increase
of nutriment. Further, it should always be borne
in mind that the concentration of nutriment may
be carried too far. A bulk sufficient to fill the
stomach is one requisite of a proper meal ; and this
requisite negatives a diet deficient in those waste
matters which give adequate mass. Though the
size of the digestive organs is less in the well-fed

* Morton's Cyclopaedia of Agricuiturt.

244 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

civilized races than in the ill-fed savage ones ; and,
though their size may eventually diminish still
further ; yet, for the time being, the bulk of the in-
gesta must be determined by the existing capacity.
But, paying due regard to these two qualifications
our conclusions are — that the food of children
should be highly nutritive ; that it should be varied
at each meal and at successive meals ; and that it
should be abundant.

With clothing as with food, the established ten-
dency is towards an improper scantiness. Here,
too, asceticism peeps out. There is a current theory,
vaguely entertained, if not put into a definite
formula, that the sensations are to be disregard-
ed. They do not exist for our guidance, but to
mislead us, seems to be the prevalent belief reduced
to its naked form. It is a grave error : we are
much more beneficently constituted. It is not
obedience to the sensations, but disobedience to
them, which is the habitual cause of bodily evils.
It is not the eating when hungry, but the eating in
the absence of appetite, which is bad. It is not the
drinking when thirsty, but the continuing to drink
when thirst has ceased, that is the vice. Harm re-
sults not from breathing that fresh air which every
healthy person enjoys ; but from continuing to
breathe foul air, spite of the protest of the lungs.
Harm results not from taking that active exercise
which, as every child shows us, nature strongly
prompts ; but from a persistent disregard of nature's

OBEDIENCE TO THE PHYSICAL CONSCIENCE. 245

promptings. Not that mental activity which is
spontaneous and enjoyable does the mischief; but
that which is persevered in after a hot or aching
head commands desistance. Not that bodily exer-
tion which is pleasant or indifferent, does injury;
but that which is continued when exhaustion forbids.
It is true that, in those who have long led unhealthy
lives, the sensations are not trustworthy guides.
People who have for years been almost constant-
ly in-doors, who have exercised their brains very
much, and their bodies scarcely at all, who in eating
have obeyed their clocks without consulting their
stomachs, may very likely be misled by their
vitiated feelings. But their abnormal state is itself
the result of transgressing their feelings. Had they
from childhood up never disobeyed what we may
term the physical conscience, it would not have been
seared, but would have remained a faithful monitor.
Among the sensations serving for our guidance
are those of heat and cold ; and a clothing for chil-
dren which does not carefully consult these sensa-
tions is to be condemned. The common notion
about " hardening " is a grievous delusion. Chil-
dren are not unfrequently " hardened " out of the
world ; and those who survive, permanently suffer
either in growth or constitution. " Their delicate
appearance furnishes ample indication of the mis-
chief thus produced, and their frequent attacks of
illness might prove a warning even to unreflecting
parents," says Dr. Combe. The reasoning on which
this hardening theory rests is extremely superficial.

24:6 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

Wealthy parents, seeing little peasant boys and
girls playing about in the open air only half-clothed,
and joining with this fact the general healthiness of
labouring people, draw the unwarrantable conclu-
sion that the healthiness is the result of the expo-
sure, and resolve to keep their own offspring scan-
tily covered ! It is forgotten that these urchins
who gambol upon village-greens are in many re-
spects favourably circumstanced — that their days
are spent in almost perpetual play ; that they are
always breathing fresh air ; and that their systems
are not disturbed by over-taxed brains. For aught
that appears to the contrary, their good health may
be maintained, not in consequence of, but in spite
of, their deficient clothing. This alternative con-
clusion we believe to be the true one ; and that an
inevitable detriment results from the needless loss
of animal heat to which they are subject.

For when, the constitution being sound enough
to bear it, exposure does produce hardness, it does
so at the expense of growth. This truth is display-
ed alike in animals and in man. The Shetland
pony bears greater inclemencies than the horses of
the south, but is dwarfed. Highland sheep and
cattle, living in a colder climate, are stunted in
comparison with English breeds. In both the arc-
tic and antarctic regions the human race falls
much below its ordinary height: the Laplander
and Esquimaux are very short ; and the Terra del
Fuegians, who go naked in a cold latitude, are de-
scribed by Darwin as so stunted and hideous, that

PROTECTION FROM COLD. 247

tl one can hardly make one's self believe they are
fellow-creatures."

Science clearly explains this dwarfishness pro-
duced by great abstraction of heat : showing that,
food and other things being equal, it unavoidably
results. For, as before pointed out, to make up for
that cooling by radiation which the body is con-
stantly undergoing, there must be a constant oxida-
tion of certain matters which form part of the food.
And in proportion as the thermal loss is great, must
the quantity of these matters required for oxidation
be great. But the power of the digestive organs is
limited. Hence it follows, that when they have to
prepare a large quantity of this material needful
for maintaining the temperature, they can prepare
but a small quantity of the material which goes to
build up the frame. Excessive expenditure for fuel
entails diminished means for other purposes : where-
fore there necessarily results a body small in size,
or inferior in texture, or both.

Hence the great importance of clothing. As
Liebig says : — " Our clothing is, in reference to the
temperature of the body, merely an equivalent for
a certain amount of food." By diminishing the
loss of heat, it diminishes the amount of fuel need-
ful for maintaining the heat ; and when the stom-
ach has less to do in preparing fuel, it can do more
in preparing other materials. This deduction is
entirely confirmed by the experience of those who
manage animals. Cold can be borne by animals
only at an expense of fat, or muscle, or growth, as
11

248 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

the case may be. " If fattening cattle are exposed
to a low temperature, either their progress must be
retarded, or a great additional expenditure of food
incurred." * Mr. Apperley insists strongly that, to
bring hunters into good condition, it is necessary
that the stable should be kept warm. And among
those who rear racers, it is an established doctrine
that exposure is to be avoided.

The scientific truth thus illustrated by ethnolo-
gy, and recognised by agriculturists and sportsmen,
applies with double force to children. In propor-
tion to their smallness and the rapidity of their
growth is the injury from cold great. In France,
new-born infants often die in winter from being
carried to the office of the maire for registration.
" M. Quetelet has pointed out, that in Belgium two
infants die in January for one that dies in July."
And in Russia the infant mortality is something
enormous. Even when near maturity, the unde-
veloped frame is comparatively unable to bear ex-
posure : as witness the quickness with which
young soldiers succumb in a trying campaign.
The rationale is obvious. We have already ad-
verted to the fact that, in consequence of the vary-
ing relation between surface and bulk, a child loses
a relatively larger amount of heat than an adult ;
and here we must point out that the disadvantage
under which the child thus labours is very great.
Lehmann says : — " If the carbonic acid excreted by
children or young animals is calculated for an

* Morton's Cyclopaedia of Agriculture.

EVILS INFLICTED BY SCANTY CLOTHING. 249

equal bodily weight, it results that children pro-
duce nearly twice as much acid as adults." Now
the quantity of carbonic acid given off varies with
tolerable accuracy as the quantity of heat produced.
And thus we see that in children the system, even
when not placed at a disadvantage, is called upon
to provide nearly double the proportion of material
for generating heat.

See, then, the extreme folly of clothing the
young scantily. What father, full-grown though
he is, losing heat less rapidly as he does, and hav-
ing no physiological necessity but to supply the
waste of each day — what father, we ask, would
think it salutary to go about with bare legs, bare
arms, and bare neck ? Yet this tax upon the sys*
tem, from which he would shrink, he inflicts upon
his little ones, who are so much less able to bear
it ! or, if he does not inflict it, sees it inflicted with
out protest. Let him remember that every ounce
of nutriment needlessly expended for the mainte-
nance of temperature, is so much deducted from
the nutriment going to build up the frame and
maintain the energies ; and that even when colds,
congestions, or other consequent disorders are
escaped, diminished growth or less perfect struc-
ture is inevitable.

"The rule is, therefore, not to dress in an inva-
riable way in all cases, but to put on clothing in
kind and quantity sufficient in the individual case
to protect the body effectually from an abiding sensa-
tion of cold, however slight" This rule, the impor-

250 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

tance of which Dr. Combe indicates by the italics,
is one in which men of science and practitioners
agree. We have met with none competent to form
a judgment on the matter, who do not strongly con-
demn the exposure of children's limbs. If there is
one point above others in which "pestilent custom"
should be ignored, it is this.

Lamentable, indeed, is it to see mothers serious-
ly damaging the constitutions of their children out
of compliance with an irrational fashion. It is bad
enough that they should themselves conform to
every folly which our Gallic neighbours please to
initiate ; but that they should clothe their children
in any mountebank dress which Le petit Courrier
des Dames indicates, regardless of its insufficiency
and unfitness, is monstrous. Discomfort, more or
less great, is inflicted ; frequent disorders are en-
tailed ; growth is checked or stamina undermined ;
premature death not uncommonly caused ; and all
because it is thought needful to make frocks of a
size and material dictated by French caprice. Not
only is it that for the sake of conformity, mothers
thus punish and injure their little ones by scanti-
ness of covering; but it is that from an allied
motive they impose a style of dress which forbids
healthful activity. To please the eye, colours and
fabrics are chosen totally unfit to bear that rough
usage which unrestrained play involves ; and then
to prevent damage the unrestrained play is inter-
dieted. " Get up this moment : you will soil your
clean frock," is the mandate issued to some urchin

MATERNAL FOLLY IN DRESSING CHILDREN. 251

creeping about on. the floor. " Come back : you
will dirty your stockings," calls out the governess
to one of her charges, who has left the footpath to
scramble up a bank. Thus is the evil doubled.
That they may come up to their mamma's stand-
ard of prettiness, and be admired by her visitors,
children must have habiliments deficient in quanti-
ty and unfit in texture; and that these easily-
damaged habiliments may be kept clean and unin-
jured, the restless activity, so natural and needful
for the young, is more or less restrained. The ex-
ercise which becomes doubly requisite when the
clothing is insufficient, is cut short, lest it should
deface the clothing. Would that the terrible cruel-
ty of this system could be seen by those who main-
tain it. We do not hesitate to say that, through
enfeebled health, defective energies, and conse-
quent non-success in life, thousands are annually
doomed to unhappiness by this unscrupulous regard
for appearances : even when they are not, by early
death, literally sacrificed to the Moloch of maternal
vanity. We are reluctant to counsel strong meas-
ures, but really the evils are so great as to justify,
or even to demand, a peremptory interference on
the part of fathers.

Our conclusions are, then — that, while the cloth-
ing of children should never be in such excess as
to create oppressive warmth, it should always be
sufficient to prevent any general feeling of cold ; *

* It is needful to remark that children whose legs and arms
have been from the beginning habitually without covering, cease to

252 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

that, instead of the flimsy cotton, linen, or mixed
fabrics commonly used, it should be made of some
good non-conductor, such as coarse woollen cloth ;
that it should be so strong as to receive little dam-
age from the hard wear and tear which childish
sports will give it ; and that its colours should be
such as will not soon suffer from use and exposure.

To the importance of bodily exercise most peo-
ple are in some degree awake. Perhaps less needs
saying on this requisite of physical education than
on most others : at any rate, in so far as boys are
concerned. Public schools and private schools
alike furnish tolerably adequate playgrounds ; and
there is usually a fair share of time for out-of-door
games, and a recognition of them as needful. In
this, if in no other direction, it seems admitted that
the natural promptings of boyish instinct may ad-
vantageously be followed ; and, indeed, in the
modern practice of breaking the prolonged morning
and afternoon's lessons by a few minutes' open-air
recreation, we see an increasing tendency to con-
form school regulations to the bodily sensations of
the pupils. Here, then, little needs to be said in
the way of expostulation or suggestion.

be conscious that the exposed surfaces are cold ; just as by use we
have all ceased to be conscious that our faces are cold, even when
out of doors. But though in such children the sensations no longer
protest, it does not follow that the system escapes injury; anymore
than it follows that the Fuegian is undamaged by exposure, because
he bears with indifference the melting of the falling snow on his
naked body.

GIRLS HAVE NOT ENOUGH EXERCISE. . 253

But we have been obliged to qualify this ad-
mission by inserting the clause " in so far as boys
are concerned." Unfortunately, the fact is quite
otherwise in the case of girls. It chances, some-
what strangely, that we have daily opportunity of
drawing a comparison. We have both a boy's and
a girl's school within view ; and the contrast be-
tween them is remarkable. In the one case, nearly
the whole of a large garden is turned into an open,
gravelled space, affording ample scope for games,
and supplied with poles and horizontal bars for
gymnastic exercises. Every day before breakfast,
again towards eleven o'clock, again at mid-day,
again in the afternoon, and once more after school
is over, the neighbourhood is awakened by a chorus
of shouts and laughter as the boys rush out to play ;
and for as long as they remain, both eyes and ears
give proof that they are absorbed in that enjoyable
activity which makes the pulse bound and ensures
the healthful activity of every organ. How unlike
is the picture offered by the "Establishment for
Young Ladies"! Until the fact was pointed out,
we actually did not know that we had a girl's
school as close to us as the school for boys. The
garden, equally large with the other, affords no
sign whatever of any provision for juvenile recrea-
tion ; but is entirely laid out with prim grassplots,
gravel-walks, shrubs, and flowers, after the usual
suburban style. During five months we have not
once had our attention drawn to the premises by a
6hout or a laugh. Occasionally girls may be ob'

254: PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

served sauntering along the paths with their lesson-
books in their hands, or else walking arm-in-arm.
Once, indeed, we saw one chase another round the
garden ; but, with this exception, nothing like
vigorous exertion has been visible.

Why this astonishing difference ? Is it that the
constitution of a girl differs so entirely from that
of a boy as not to need these active exercises ? Is
it that a girl has none of the promptings to vocifer-
ous play by which boys are impelled ? Or is it
that, while in boys these promptings are to be re-
garded as securing that bodily activity without
which there cannot be adequate development, to
their sisters nature has given them for no purpose
whatever — unless it be for the vexation of school-
mistresses ? Perhaps, however, we mistake the
aim of those "who train the gentler sex. We have
a vague suspicion that to produce a robust physique
is thought undesirable ; that rude health and
abundant vigour are considered somewhat plebe-
ian ; that a certain delicacy, a strength not compe-
tent to more than a mile or two's walk, an appetite
fastidious and easily satisfied, joined with that ti-
midity which commonly accompanies feebleness,
are held more lady-like. We do not expect that
any would distinctly avow this ; but we fancy the
governess-mind is haunted by an ideal young lady
bearing not a little resemblance to this type. If
so, it must be admitted that the established system
is admirably calculated to realize this ideal. But
to suppose that such is the ideal of the opposite

THE HORROR OF THE SCHOOL-MISTRESS. 255

6ex is a profound mistake. That men are not com-
monly drawn towards masculine women, is doubt-
less true. That such relative weakness as calls for
the protection of superior strength is an element
of attraction, we quite admit. But the difference
to which the feelings thus respond is the natural,
pre-established difference, which will assert itself
without artificial appliances. And when, by artifi-
cial appliances, the degree of this difference is in-
creased, it becomes an element of repulsion rather
than attraction.

" Then girls should be allowed to run wild — to
become as rude as boys, and grow up into romps
and hoydens ! " exclaims some defender of the pro-
prieties. This, we presume, is the ever-present
dread of schoolmistresses. It appears, on inquiry,
that at " Establishments for Young Ladies " noisy
play like that daily indulged in by boys, is a punish-
able offence ; and it is to be inferred that this noisy
play is forbidden, lest unlady-like habits should
be formed. The fear is quite groundless, however-
For if the sportive activity allowed to boys does
not prevent them from growing up into gentlemen ;
why should a like sportive activity allowed to
girls prevent them from growing up into ladies ?
Rough as may have been their accustomed play-
ground frolics, youths who have left school do not
indulge in leapfrog in the street, or marbles in the
drawing-room. Abandoning their jackets, they
abandon at the same time boyish games ; and dis-
play an anxiety — often a ludicrous anxiety — to

256 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

avoid whatever is not manly. If now, on arriving
at the due age, this feeling of masculine dignity
puts so efficient a restraint on the romping sports
of boyhood, will not the feeling of feminine mod-
esty, gradually strengthening as maturity is ap-
proached, put an efficient restraint on the like
sports of girlhood ? Have not women even a
greater regard for appearances than men ? and will
there not consequently arise in them even a stronger
check to whatever is rough or boisterous ? How
absurd is the supposition that the womanly in-
stincts would not assert themselves but for the rig-
orous discipline of schoolmistresses 1

In this, as in other cases, to remedy the evils of
one artificiality, another artificiality has been intro-
duced. The natural spontaneous exercise having
been forbidden, and the bad consequences of no
exercise having become conspicuous, there has
been adopted a system of factitious exercise — gym-
nastics. That this is better than nothing we ad-
mit ; but that it is an adequate substitute for play
we deny. The defects are both positive and nega-
tive. In the first place, these formal, muscular
motions, necessarily much less varied than those
accompanying juvenile sports, do not secure so
equable a distribution of action to all parts of the
body ; whence it results that the exertion, falling
on special parts, produces fatigue sooner than it
would else have done : add to which, that, if con-
stantly repeated, this exertion of special parts leads
to a disproportionate development. Again, the

PLAY BETTER THAN GYMNASTIC8. 257

quantity of exercise thus taken will be deficient,
not only in consequence of uneven distribution, but
it will be further deficient in consequence of lack
of interest. Even when not made repulsive, as
they sometimes are, by assuming the shape of ap-
pointed lessons, these monotonous movements are
sure to become wearisome, from the absence of
amusement. Competition, it is true, serves as a
stimulus ; but it is not a lasting stimulus, like that
enjoyment which accompanies varied play. Not
only, however, are gymnastics inferior in respect
of the quantity of muscular exertion which they
secure ; they are still more inferior in respect of
the quality. This comparative want of enjoyment
to which we have just referred as a cause of early
desistance from artificial exercises, is also a cause
of inferiority in the effects they produce on the
system. The common assumption that so long as
the amount of bodily action is the same, it matters
not whether it be pleasurable or otherwise, is a
grave mistake. An agreeable mental excitement
has a highly invigorating influence. See the ef-
fect produced upon an invalid by good news, or by
the visit of an old friend. Mark how careful med-
ical men are to recommend lively society to debili-
tated patients. Remember how beneficial to the
health is the gratification produced by change of
scene. The truth is that happiness is the most
powerful of tonics. By accelerating the circulation
of the blood, it facilitates the performance of every
function j and so tends alike to increase health

258 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

when it exists, and to restore it when it has been
lost. Hence the essential superiority of play to
gymnastics. The extreme interest felt by children
in their games, and the riotous glee with which
they carry on their rougher frolics, are of as much
importance as the accompanying exertion. And
as not supplying these mental stimuli, gymnastics
must be fundamentally defective.

Granting then, as we do, that formal exercises
of the limbs are better than nothing — granting,
further, that they may be used with advantage as
supplementary aids ; we yet contend that such
formal exercises can never supply the place of the
exercises prompted by nature. For girls, as well
as boys, the sportive activities to which the in-
stincts impel, are essential to bodily welfare.
Whoever forbids them, forbids the divinely-ap-
pointed means to physical development.

A topic still remains — one perhaps more ur-
gently demanding consideration than any of the
foregoing. It is asserted by not a few, that among
the educated classes the younger adults and those
who are verging upon maturity are, on the aver-
age, neither so well grown nor so strong as their
seniors. When first we heard this assertion, we
were inclined to disregard it as one of the many
manifestations of the old tendency to exalt the past
at the expense of the present. Calling to mind the
facts that, as measured by ancient armour, modern
men are proved to be larger than ancient men, and

PHYSICAL DEGENERACY. 259

that the tables of mortality show no diminution,
but rather an increase in the duration of life, we
paid little attention to what seemed a groundless
belief. Detailed observation, however, has greatly
shaken our opinion. Omitting from the compari-
son the labouring classes, we have noticed a major-
ity of cases in which the children do not reach the
stature of their parents ; and, in massiveness, mak-
ing due allowance for difference of age, there seems
a like inferiority. In health, the contrast appears
still greater. Merc of past generations, living riot-
ously as they did, could bear much more than men
of the present generation, who live soberly, can
bear. Though they drank hard, kept irregular
hours, were regardless of fresh air, and thought lit-
tle of cleanliness, our recent ancestors were capa-
ble of prolonged application without injury, even
to a ripe old age : witness the annals of the bench
and the bar. Yet we who think much about our
bodily welfare ; who eat with moderation, and do
not drink to excess ; who attend to ventilation, and
use frequent ablutions ; who make annual excur-
sions, and have the benefit of greater medical
knowledge ; — we are continually breaking down
under our work. Paying considerable attention to
the laws of health, we seem to be weaker than
our grandfathers who, in many respects, defied the
laws of health. And, judging from the appear-
ance and frequent ailments of the rising generation,
they are likely to be even less robust than our-
Belve8.

260 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

What is the meaning of this ? Is it that past
over-feeding, alike of adults and juveniles, was less
injurious than the under-feeding to which we have
adverted as now so general ? Is it that the defi-
cient clothing which this delusive hardening theory
has encouraged, is to blame ? Is it that the greater
or less discouragement of juvenile sports, in defer-
ence to a false refinement, is the cause ? From our
reasonings it may be inferred that each of these
has probably had a share in producing the evil.
But there has been yet another detrimental in-
fluence at work, perhaps more potent than any of
the others : we mean — excess of mental applica-
tion.

On old and young, the pressure of modern life
puts a still-increasing strain. In all businesses and
professions, intenser competition taxes the energies
and abilities of every adult ; and, with the view of
better fitting the young to hold their place under
this intenser competition, they are subject to a more
severe discipline than heretofore. The damage is
thus doubled. Fathers, who find not only that they
are run hard by their multiplying competitors, but
that, while labouring under this disadvantage, they
have to maintain a more expensive style of living,
are all the year round obliged to work early and
late, taking little exercise and getting but short
holidays. The constitutions, shaken by this long
continued over-application, they bequeath to their
children. And then these comparatively feeble
children, predisposed as they are to break down

MISCHIEFS OF OVER-APPLICATION. 261

even under an ordinary strain upon their energies,
are required to go through a curriculum much
more extended than that prescribed for the unen-
feebled children of past generations.

That disastrous consequences must result from
this cumulative transgression might be predicted
with certainty ; and that they do result, every ob-
servant person knows. Go where you will, and
before long there come under your notice cases of
children, or youths, of either sex, more or less in-
jured by undue study. Here, to recover from a
state of debility thus produced, a year's rustica-
tion has been found necessary. There you find a
chronic congestion of the brain, that has already
lasted many months, and threatens to last much
longer. Now you hear of a fever that resulted from
the over-excitement in some way brought on at
school. And, again, the instance is that of a youth
who has already had once to desist from his studies,
and who, since he has returned to them, is frequent-
ly taken out of his class in a fainting fit. We state
facts — facts that have not been sought for, but have
been thrust upon our observation during the last
two years : and that, too, within a very limited
range. Nor have we by any means exhausted the
list. Quite recently we had the opportunity of
marking how the evil becomes hereditary : the case
being that of a lady of robust parentage, whose sys-
tem was so injured by the regime of a Scotch board-
ing-school, where she was under-fed and over-work-

£62 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

ed, that she invariably suffers from vertigo on rising
in the morning; and whose children, inheriting this
enfeebled brain, are several of them unable to bear
even a moderate amount of study without headache
or giddiness. At the present time we have daily
under our eyes, a young lady whose system has
been damaged for life by the college-course through
which she has passed. Taxed as she was to such
an extent that she had no energy left for exercise,
she is, now that she has finished her education, a
constant complainant. Appetite small and very
capricious, mostly refusing meat ; extremities per-
petually cold, even when the weather is warm ; a
feebleness which forbids anything but the slowest
walking, and that only for a short time ; palpitation
on going up stairs ; greatly impaired vision — these,
joined with checked growth and lax tissue, are
among the results entailed. And to her case we
may add that of her friend and fellow-student ; who
is similarly weak ; who is liable to faint even under
the excitement of a quiet party of friends ; and who
has at length been obliged by her medical attend-
ant to desist from study entirely.

If injuries so conspicuous are thus frequent, how
very general must be the smaller and inconspicu-
ous injuries. To one case' where positive illness is
directly traceable to over-application, there are
probably at least half-a-dozen cases where the evil
is unobtrusive and slowly accumulating — cases
where there is frequent derangement of the func-

MISCHIEFS OF OVER-APPLICATION. 263

tions, attributed to this or that special cause, or to
constitutional delicacy ; cases where there is retar-
dation and premature arrest of bodily growth ;
cases where a latent tendency to consumption is
brought out and established ; cases where a predis-
position is given to that now common cerebral dis-
order brought on by the hard work of adult life.
How commonly constitutions are thus undermined,
will be clear to all who, after noting the frequent
ailments of hard-worked professional and mercantile
men, will reflect on the disastrous effects which
undue application must produce upon the unde-
veloped systems of the young. The young are com-
petent to bear neither as much hardship, nor as
much physical exertion, nor as much mental exer-
tion, as the full grown. Judge, then, if the full
grown so manifestly suffer from the excessive mental
exertion required of them, how great must be the
damage which a mental exertion, often equally ex-
cessive, inflicts upon the young !

Indeed, when we examine the merciless school-
drill to which many children are subjected, the
wonder is, not that it does great injury, but that it
can be home at all. Take the instance given by
Sir John Forbes from personal knowledge; and
which he asserts, after much inquiry, to be an
average sample of the middle-class girl's-school sys-
tem throughout England. Omitting the detailed
divisions of time, we quote the summary of the
twenty-four hours.

204 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

In bed 9 hours (the younger 10)

In school, at their studies and

tasks 9 "

In school, or in the house, the

older at optional studies or

the work, younger at play . . 3£ " (the younger 2£)

At meals l£ "

Exercise in the open air, in the

shape of a formal walk, often

with lesson books in hand, and

even this only when the wea-
ther is fine at the appointed

time 1 ■

~24

And what are the results of this " astounding
regimen," as Sir John Forbes terms it ? Of course
feebleness, pallor, want of spirits, general ill-health.
But he describes something more. This utter dis-
regard of physical welfare, out of extreme anxiety
to cultivate the mind — this prolonged exercise of
the brain and deficient exercise of the limbs, — he
found to be habitually followed, not only by dis-
ordered functions but by malformation. He says :
— " We lately visited, in a large town, a boarding-
school containing forty girls ; and we learnt, on
close and accurate inquiry, that there was not one
of the girls who had been at the school two years
(and the majority had been as long) that was not
more or less crooked ! " *

It may be that since 1833, when this was written,
Borne improvement has taken place. We hope it

* Cyclopaedia of Practical Medicine, vol. i. pp. 69*7, 698.

TIME DEVOTED TO STUDY. 265

has. But that the system is still common — nay,
that it is in some cases carried even to a greater
extreme than ever ; we can personally testify. We
recently went over a training college for young
men : one of those instituted of late years for the
purpose of supplying schools with well-disciplined
teachers. Here, under official supervision, where
something better than the judgment of private
schoolmistresses might have been looked for, we
found the daily routine to be as follows : —

At 6 o'clock the students are called,
" 7 to 8 studies,

u 8 to 9 scripture reading, prayers, and breakfast,
" 9 to 12 studies,
" 12 to l£ leisure, nominally devoted to walking or other

exercise, but often spent in study,
" 1J to 2 dinner, the meal commonly occupying twenty

minutes,
" 2 to 5 studies,
u 5 to 6 tea and relaxation,
" 6 to 8£ studies,
" 8£ to 9J private studies in preparing lessons for the next

day,
" 10 to bed.

Thus, out of the twenty-four hours, eight are de-
voted to sleep ; four and a quarter are occupied in
dressing, prayers, meals, and the brief periods of
rest accompanying them; ten and a half are given
to study ; and one and a quarter to exercise, which
is optional and often avoided. Not only, however,
is it that the ten and a half hours of recognised
study are frequently increased to eleven and a half

266 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

by devoting to books the time set apart for exercise ;
but some of the students who are not quick in learn-
ing, get up at four o'clock in the morning to prepare
their lessons ; and are actually encouraged by their
teachers to do this ! The course to be passed
through in a given time is so extensive ; the teach-
ers, whose credit is at stake in getting their pupils
well through the examinations, are so urgent ; and
the difficulty of satisfying the requirements is so
great; that pupils are not uncommonly induced to
spend twelve and thirteen hours a day in mental
labour! *L // f

It needs no prophet to see that the bodily injury
inflicted must be great. As we were told by one
of the inmates, those who arrive with fresh com-
plexions quickly become blanched. Illness is fre-
quent : there are always some on the sick-list. Fail-
ure of appetite and indigestion are very common. Di-
arrhoea is a prevalent disorder : not uncommonly a
third of the whole number of students suffering
under it at the same time. Headache is generally
complained of; and by some is borne almost daily
for months. While a certain percentage break
down entirely and go away.

That this should be the regimen of what is in
some sort a model institution, established and super-
intended by the embodied enlightenment of the
age, is a startling fact. That the severe examina-
tions, joined with the short period assigned for prep-
aration, should practically compel recourse to a
system which inevitably undermines the health of

DANGERS OF OVER -EDUCATION. 267

all who pass through it, is proof, if not of cruelty,
then of woful ignorance.

Doubtless the case is in a great degree excep-
tional— perhaps to be paralleled only in other insti'
tutions of the same class. But that cases so extreme
should exist at all, indicates pretty clearly how
great is the extent to which the minds of the rising
generation are overtasked. Expressing as they do
the ideas of the educated community, these training
colleges, even in the absence of all other evidence,
would conclusively imply a prevailing tendency to
an unduly urgent system of culture.

It seems strange that there should be so little
consciousness of the dangers of over-education dur-
ing youth, when there is so general a consciousness
of the dangers of over-education during childhood.
Most parents are more or less aware of the evil
consequences that follow infant precocity. In every
society may be heard reprobation of those who too
early stimulate the minds of their little ones. And
the dread of this early stimulation is great in pro-
portion as there is adequate knowledge of the
effects : witness the implied opinion of one of our
most distinguished professors of physiology, who
told lis that he did not intend his little boy to learn
any lessons until he was eight years old. But
while to all it is a familiar truth that a forced
development of intelligence in childhood entails
disastrous results — either physical feebleness, or
ultimate stupidity, or early death — it appearc not
to be perceived that throughout youth the same

2G8 niYSICAL EDUCATION.

truth holds. Yet it is certain that it must do so.
There is a given order in which, and a given rate
at which, the faculties unfold. If the course of
education conforms itself to that order and rate,
well. If not — if the higher faculties are early taxed
by presenting an order of knowledge more complex
and abstract than can be readily assimilated ; or if,
by excess of culture, the intellect in general is
developed to a degree beyond that which is natural
to the age; the abnormal result so produced will
inevitably be accompanied by some equivalent, or
more than equivalent, evil.

For Nature is a strict accountant ; and if you
demand of her in one direction more than she is
prepared to lay out, she balances the account by
making a deduction elsewhere. If you will let her
follow her own course, taking care to supply, in
right quantities and kinds, the raw materials of
bodily and mental growth required at each age, she
will eventually produce an individual more or less
evenly developed. If, however, you insist on pre-
mature or undue growth of any one part, she will,
with more or less protest, concede the point ; but
that she may do your extra work, she must leave
some of her more important work undone. Let it
never be forgotten that the amount of vital energy
which the body at any moment possesses is limited ;
and that, being limited, it is impossible to get from
it more than a fixed quantity of results. In a child
or 3011th the demands upon this vital energy are
various and urgent. As before pointed out, the

VARIOUS DRAUGHTS UPON THE ENERGY. 269

m aste consequent on the day's bodily exercise has
to be repaired ; the wear of brain entailed by the
day's study lias to be made good ; a certain addi-
tional growth of body has to be provided for ; and
also a certain additional growth of brain : add to
which the amount of energy absorbed in the diges-
tion of the large quantity of food required for meet-
ing these many demands. Now, that to divert an
excess of energy into any one of these channels i.»
to abstract it from the others, is not only manifest
d priori • but may be shown d posteriori from the
experience of every one. Every one knows, for in-
stance, that the digestion of a heavy meal makes
such a demand on the system as to produce lassi-
tude of mind and body, ending not unfrequently in
sleep. Every one knows, too, that excess of bodily
exercise diminishes the power of thought — that the
temporary prostration following any sudden exer-
tion, or the fatigue produced by a thirty miles'
walk, is accompanied by a disinclination to mental
effort; that, after a month's pedestrian tour, the
mental inertia is such that some days are required
to overcome it ; and that in peasants who spend their
lives in muscular labour the activity of mind is very
small. Again, it is a truth familiar to all that dur-
ing those fits of extreme rapid growth which some-
times occur in childhood, the great abstraction of
energy is shown in the attendant prostration, bodily
and mental. Once more, the facts that violent
muscular exertion after eating will stop digestion,
and that children who are early put to hard labour

270 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

become stunted, similarly exhibit the antagonism
— similarly imply that excess of activity in one
direction involves deficiency of it in other direc-
tions. Now, the law which is thus manifest in ex-
treme cases holds in all cases. These injurious ab-
stractions of energy as certainly take place when
the undue demands are slight and constant, as
when they are great and sudden. Hence, if in
youth, the expenditure in mental labour exceeds
that which nature had provided for ; the expendi-
ture for other purposes falls below what it should
have been : and evils of one kind or other are inev-
itably entailed. Let us briefly consider these evils.
Supposing the over-activity of brain not to be
extreme, but to exceed the normal activity only in
a moderate degree, there will be nothing more than
some slight reaction on the development of the
body : the stature falling a little below that which
it would else have reached ; or the bulk being less
than it would have been ; or the quality of tissue
being not so good. One or more of these effects
must necessarily occur. The extra quantity of
blood supplied to the brain, not only during the
period of mental exertion, but during the subse-
quent period in which the waste of cerebral sub-
stance is being made good, is blood that would else
have been circulating through the limbs and vis-
cera ; and the amount of growth or repair for which
that blood would have supplied materials, is lost.
This physical reaction being certain, the question
is, whether the gain resulting from the extra cul-

ANTAGONISM OF GKOWTH AND DEVELOPMENT. 271

ture is equivalent to the loss ? — whether defect of
bodily growth, or the want of that structural per-
fection which gives high vigour and endurance,
is compensated for by the additional knowledge
gained ?

When the excess of mental exertion is greater,
there follow results far more serious; telling not
only against bodily perfection, but against the
perfection of the brain itself. It is a physiological
law, first pointed out by M. Isidore St. Hilaire, and
to which attention has been drawn by Mr. Lewes
in his essay on Dwarfs and Giants, that there is
an antagonism between growth and development.
By growth, as Used in this antithetical sense, is to
be understood increase of size f by development,
increase of structure. And the law is, that great
activity in either of these processes involves retar-
dation or arrest of the other. A familiar illustra-
tion is furnished by the cases of the caterpillar and
the chrysalis. In the caterpillar there is extremely
rapid augmentation of bulk ; but the structure is
scarcely at all more complex when the caterpillar
is full-grown than when it is small. In the chrysa-
lis the bulk does not increase ; on the contrary,
weight is lost during this stage of the creature's
life ; but the elaboration of a more complex struc-
ture goes on with great activity. The antagonism,
here so clear, is less traceable in higher creatures,
because the two processes are carried on together.
But we 6ee it pretty well illustrated among our-
selves by contrasting the sexes. A girl develops

12

272 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

in body and mind rapidly, and ceases to grow com-
paratively early. A boy's bodily and mental de-
velopment is slower, and his growth greater. At
the age when the one is mature, finished, and hav-
ing all faculties in full play, the other, whose vital
energies have been more directed towards increase
of size, is relatively incomplete in structure ; and
shows it in a comparative awkwardness, bodily and
mental. Now this law is true not only of the
organism as a whole, but of each separate part.
The abnormally rapid advance of any part in re-
spect of structure involves premature arrest of its
growth; and this happens with the organ of the
mind as certainly as with any other organ. The
brain, which during early years is relatively large
in mass but imperfect in structure will, if required
to perform its functions with undue activity, under-
go a structural advance greater than is appropriate
to the age ; but the ultimate effect will be a falling
short of the size and power that would else have
been attained. And this is a part cause — probably
the chief cause — why precocious children, and
youths who up to a certain time were carrying all
before them, so often stop short and disappoint the
high hopes of their parents.

But these results of over-education, disastrous
as they are, are perhaps less disastrous than the re-
sults produced upon the health — the undermined
constitution, the enfeebled energies, the morbid
feelings. Recent discoveries in physiology have
shown how immense is the influence of the brain

DISTURBING EFFECTS OF CEREBRAL EXCITEMENT. 273

over the functions of the body. The digestion of
the food, the circulation of the blood, and through
these all other organic processes, are profoundly
affected by cerebral excitement. Whoever has
seen repeated, as we have, the experiment first per-
formed by Weber, showing the consequence of
irritating the vagus nerve which connects the brain
with the viscera — whoever has seen the action of
the heart suddenly arrested by the irritation of this
nerve ; slowly recommencing when the irritation is
suspended ; and again arrested the moment it is re-
newed ; will have a vivid conception of the depress*
ing influence which an over-wrought brain exer-
cises on the body. The effects thus physiologically
explained, are indeed exemplified in ordinary ex-
perience. There is no one but has felt the palpita-
tion accompanying hope, fear, anger, joy — no one
but has observed how laboured becomes the action
of the heart when these feelings are very violent.
And though there are many who have never them-
selves suffered that extreme emotional excitement
which is followed by arrest of the heart's action
and fainting; yet every one knows them to be
cause and effect. It is a familiar fact, too, that dis-
turbance of the stomach is entailed by mental ex-
citement exceeding a certain intensity. Loss of
appetite is a common result alike of very pleasura-
ble and very painful states of mind. When the
event producing a pleasurable or painful state of
mind occurs shortly after a meal, it not unfrequent-
ly happens either that the stomach rejects what has

274 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

been eaten, or digests it with great difficulty and
under prolonged protest. And as every one who
taxes his brain much can testify, even purely intel-
lectual action will, when excessive, produce analo-
gous effects. Now the relation between brain and
body which is so manifest in these extreme cases,
holds equally in ordinary, less-marked cases. Just
as these violent but temporary cerebral excitements
produce violent but temporary disturbances of the
viscera ; so do the less violent but chronic cerebral
excitements, produce less violent but chronic visce-
ral disturbances. This is not simply an inference
— it is a truth to which every medical man can
bear witness ; and it is one to which a long and sad
experience enables us to give personal testimony.
Various degrees and forms of bodily derangement,
often taking years of enforced idleness to set par-
tially right, result from this prolonged over-exertion
of mind. Sometimes the heart is chiefly affected :
habitual palpitations ; a pulse much enfeebled j
and very generally a diminution in the number of
beats from seventy-two to sixty, or even fewer.
Sometimes the conspicuous disorder is of the stom-
ach : a dyspepsia which makes life a burden, and
is amenable to no remedy but time. In many cases
both heart and stomach are implicated. Mostly
the sleep is short and broken. And very generally
there is more or less mental depression.

Consider, then, how great must be the damage
inflicted by undue mental excitement on children
and youths. More or less of this constitutional dis-

DANGEROUS EFFECTS OF OVER-STUDY. 275

turbance will inevitably follow an exertion of brain
beyond that which nature had provided for ; and
when not so excessive as to produce absolute illness,
is sure to entail a slowly accumulating degeneracy
of physique. With a small and fastidious appetite,
an imperfect digestion, and an enfeebled circula-
tion, how can the developing body flourish ? The
due performance of every vital process depends
on the adequate supply of good blood. Without
enough good blood, no gland can secrete properly,
no viscus can fully discharge its office. Without
enough good blood, no nerve, muscle, membrane,
or other tissue can be efficiently repaired. With-
out enough good blood, growth will neither be
sound nor sufficient. Judge, then, how bad must
be the consequences when to a growing body the
weakened stomach supplies blood that is deficient
in quantity and poor in quality ; while the debili-
tated heart propels this poor and scanty blood with
unnatural slowness.

And if, as all who candidly investigate the mat-
ter must admit, physical degeneracy is a conse-
quence of excessive study, how grave is the con-
demnation to be passed upon this cramming sys-
tem above exemplified. It is a terrible mistake,
from whatever point of view regarded. It is a
mistake in so far as the mere acquirement of knowl-
edge is concerned : for it is notorious that the
mind, like the body, cannot assimilate beyond a
certain rate ; and if you ply it with facts faster
than it can assimilate them, they are very soon re

276 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

jected again : they do not become permanently
built into the intellectual fabric ; but fall out of
recollection after the passing of the examination
for which they were got up. It is a mistake, too,
because it tends to make study distasteful. Either
through the painful associations produced by cease-
less mental toil, or through the abnormal state of
brain it leaves behind, it often generates an aver-
sion to books ; and, instead of that subsequent self-
culture induced by a rational education, there
comes a continued retrogression. It is a mistake,
also, inasmuch as it assumes that the acquisition of
knowledge is everything ; and forgets that a much
more important matter is the organization of knowl-
edge, for which time and spontaneous thinking are
requisite. Just as Humboldt remarks respecting
the progress of intelligence in general, that " the
interpretation of nature is obscured when the de-
scription languishes under too great an accumula-
tion of insulated facts ; " so it may be remarked,
respecting the progress of individual intelligence,
that the mind is overburdened and hampered by
an excess of ill-digested information. It is not the
knowledge stored up as intellectual fat which is of
value ; but that which is turned into intellectual
muscle. But the mistake is still deeper. Even
were the system good as a system of intellectual
graining, which it is not, it would still be bad, be-
cause, as we have shown, it is fatal to that vigour
of jphysique which is needful to make intellectual
training available in the struggle of life. Those

THE PRICELESS BLESSING OF HEALTH. 277

who, in eagerness to cultivate their pupils' minds,
are reckless of their bodies, do not remember that
success in the world depends much more upon en-
ergy than upon information ; and that a policy
which in cramming with information undermines
energy, is self-defeating. The strong will and un-
tiring activity which result from abundant animal
vigour, go far to compensate even for great defects
of education ; and when joined with that quite ad-
equate education which may be obtained without
sacrificing health, they ensure an easy victory over
competitors enfeebled by excessive study : prodi-
gies of learning though they may be. A compara-
tively small and ill-made engine, worked at high-
pressure, will do more than a larger and well-fin-
ished one worked at low-pressure. What folly is
it, then, while finishing the engine, so to damage
the boiler that it will not generate steam ! Once
more, the system is a mistake, as involving a false
estimate of welfare in life. Even supposing it
were a means to worldly success, instead of a means
to worldly failure, yet, in the entailed ill-health, it
would inflict a more than equivalent curse. What
boots it to have attained wealth, if the wealth is
accompanied by ceaseless ailments ? What is the
worth of distinction, if it has brought hypochon-
dria with it ? Surely none needs telling that a good
digestion, a bounding pulse, and high spirits are
elements of happiness which no external advan-
tages can outbalance. Chronic bodily disorder
casts a gloom over the brightest prospects ; while

278 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

the vivacity of strong health gilds even misfortune.
We contend, then, that this over-education is vi-
cious in every way — vicious, as giving knowledge
that will soon be forgotten ; vicious, as producing
a disgust for knowledge ; vicious, as neglecting
that organization of knowledge which is more im-
portant than its acquisition ; vicious, as weakening
or destroying that energy, without which a trained
intellect is useless ; vicious, as entailing that ill-
health for which even success would not compen-
sate, and which makes failure doubly bitter.

On women the effects of this forcing system
are, if possible, even more injurious than on men.
Being in great measure debarred from those vigor-
ous and enjoyable exercises of body by which boys
mitigate the evils of excessive study, girls feed
these evils in their full intensity. Hence, the
much smaller proportion of them who grow up
well made and healthy. In the pale, angular, flat-
chested young ladies, so abundant in London draw-
ing-rooms, we see the effect of merciless applica-
tion, unrelieved by youthful sports ; and this phys-
ical degeneracy exhibited by them, hinders their
welfare far more than their many accomplishments
aid it. Mammas anxious to make their daughters
attractive, could scarcely choose a course more fatal
than this, which sacrifices the body to the mind.
Either they disregard the tastes of the opposite
sex, or else their conception of those tastes is erro-
neous. Men care comparatively little for erudition
in women ; but very much for physical beauty, and

ELEMENTS OF FEMININE ATTRACTION. 279

goodnature, and sound sense. How many con-
quests does the blue-stocking make through her ex-
tensive knowledge of history? What man ever
fell in love with a woman because she understood
Italian ? Where is the Edwin who was brought to
Angelina's feet by her German ? But rosy cheeks
and laughing eyes are great attractions. A finely
rounded figure draws admiring glances. The live-
liness and good humour that overflowing health
produces, go a great way towards establishing at-
tachments. Every one knows cases where bodily
perfections, in the absence of all other recommen-
dations, have incited a passion that carried all be-
fore it ; but scarcely any one can point to a case
where mere intellectual acquirements, apart from
moral or physical attributes, have aroused such a
feeling. The truth is that, out of the many ele-
ments uniting in various proportions to produce in
a man's breast that complex emotion which we call,
love, the strongest are those produced by physical
attractions ; the next in order of strength are those
produced by moral attractions ; the weakest are
those produced by intellectual attractions ; and
even these are dependent much less upon acquired
knowledge than on natural faculty — quickness, wit,
insight If any think the assertion a derogatory
one, and inveigh against the masculine character
for being thus swayed ; we reply that they little
know what they say when they thus call in ques-
tion the Divine ordinations. Even were there no
obvious meaning in the arrangement, we might be

280 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

sure that pome important end was subserved. But
the meaning is quite obvious to those who exam-
ine. It needs but to remember that one of Na.
ture's ends, or rather her supreme end, is the wel-
fare of posterity — it needs but to remember that,
in so far as posterity are concerned, a cultivated
intelligence based upon a bad physique is of little
worth, seeing that its descendants will die out in a
generation or two — it needs but to bear in mind
that a good physique, however poor the accompa-
nying mental endowments, is worth preserving, be-
cause, throughout future generations, the mental
endowments may be indefinitely developed — it
needs hut to contemplate these truths, to see how
important is the balance of instincts above de-
scribed. But, purpose apart, the instincts being
thus balanced, it is a fatal folly to persist in a sys-
tem which undermines a girl's constitution that it
may overload her memory. Educate as highly as
possible — the higher the better — providing no bod-
ily injury is entailed (and we may remark, in pass-
ing, that a high standard might be so reached were
the parrot-faculty cultivated less, and the human
faculty more, and were the discipline extended
over that now wasted period between leaving school
and being married). But to educate in such man-
ner, or to such, extent, as to produce physical de-
generacy, is to defeat the chief end for which the
toil and cost and anxiety are submitted to.. By
subjecting their daughters to this high-pressure
system, parents frequently ruin their prospects in

ERRORS OF THE PREVALENT SYSTEM. 281

life. Not only do they inflict on them enfeebled
health, with all its pains and disabilities and gloom;
but very often they actually doom them to celibacy.

Our general conclusion is, then, that the ordi-
nary treatment of children is, in various ways, se-
riously prejudicial. It errs in deficient feeding;
in deficient clothing ; in deficient exercise (among
girls at least) ; and in excessive mental application.
Considering the regime as a whole, its tendency is
too exacting : it asks too much and gives too little.
In the extent to which it taxes the vital energies,
it makes the juvenile life much more like the adult
life than it should be. It overlooks the truth that,
as in the foetus the entire vitality is expended in
the direction of growth — as in the infant, the ex-
penditure of vitality in growth is so great as to
leave extremely little for either physical or mental
action ; so throughout childhood and youth growth
is the dominant requirement to which all others
must be subordinated : a requirement which dic-
tates the giving of much and the taking away of
little — a requirement which, therefore, restricts the
exertion of body and mind to a degree proportion-
ate to the rapidity of growth — a requirement which
permits the mental and physical activities to in-
crease only as fast as the rate of growth diminishes.

Regarded from another point of view, this high-
pressure education manifestly results from our pass-
ing phase of civilization. In primitive times, when
aggression and defence were the leading social ac*

282 PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

tivities, bodily vigour with its accompanying coim
age were the desiderata ; and then education was
almost wholly physical : mental cultivation was lit-
tle cared for, and indeed, as in our own feudal ages,
was often treated with contempt. But now that
our state is relatively peaceful — now that muscular
power is of use for little else than manual labour,
while social success of nearly every kind de-
pends very much on mental power ; our education
has become almost exclusively mental. Instead
of respecting the body and ignoring the mind,
we now respect the mind and ignore the body.
Both these attitudes are wrong. We do not yet
sufficiently realize the truth that as, in this life of
ours, the physical underlies the mental, the mental
must not be developed at the expense of the physi-
cal. The ancient and modern conceptions must be
combined.

Perhaps nothing will so much hasten the time
when body and mind will both be adequately cared
for, as a diffusion of the belief that the preserva-
tion of health is a duty. 1 ew seem conscious that
there is such a thing as physical morality. Men's
habitual words and acts imply the idea that they
are at liberty to treat their bodies as they please.
Disorders entailed by disobedience to Nature's dic-
tates, they regard simply as grievances : not as the
effects of a conduct more or less flagitious. Though
the evil consequences inflicted on their depend-
ents, and on future generations, are often as great
as those caused by crime ; yet they do not think

PHY8ICAL IMMORALITIES AND SINS. 283

themselves in any degree criminal. It is true, that,
in the case of drunkenness, the viciousness of a
purely bodily transgression is recognised ; but none
appear to infer that, if this bodily transgression is
vicious, so too is every bodily transgression. The
fact is, that all breaches of the laws of health are
physical sins. When this is generally seen, then,
and perhaps not till then, will the physical training
of the young receive all the attention it deserves.

C3

THE END.

THE SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY

OF

HERBERT SPENCER.

FIRST PRINCIPLES.

1 vol. $2.00.
CONTENTS.

Part I. — The Unknowable.

1. Religion and Science. 4. The Relativity of all Knowl.

2. Ultimate Religious Ideas. edge.

3. Ultimate Scientific Ideas. 5. The Reconciliation.

Part II. — The Knowable.

1. Philosophy defined. 13. Simple and Compound Evolu-

2. The Data of Philosophy. tion.

8. Space, Time, Matter, Motion, 14. The Law of Evolution.

and Force. 16. The Law of Evolution (con-

4. The Indestructibility of Matter. tinued).

5. The Continuity of Motion. 16. The Law of Evolution (con-

6. The Persistence of Force tinued).

7. The Persistence of Relations 17. The Law of Evolution (con-

among Forces. eluded).

8. The Transformation and Equiv- 18. The Interpretation of Evolution.

alencc of Forces. 19. The Instability of the Homoge-

9. The Direction of Motion. neous.

10. The Rhythm of Motion. 20. The Multiplication of Effects.

11. Recapitulation, Criticism, and 21. Segregation.

Recommencement. 22. Equilibration.

12. Evolution and Dissolution. 23. Dissolution.

24. Summary and Conclusion.

THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.

2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

Part I. — The Data or Biology.

1. Organic Matter. 4. Proximate Definition of Life.

2. The Action of Forces on Or- 5. The Correspondence between

game Matter. Life and its Circumstances.

8. The Reactions of Organic Mat- 6. The Degree of Life varies as the
ter on Forces. Degree of Correspondence.

1. The Scope of Biology.

spencer's synthetic philosophy.

Part II. — The Inductions of Biology.

1. Growth.

2. Development.
8. Function.

4. Waste and Repair.

5. Adaptation.

6. Individuality.

7. Genesis.

8. Heredity.

9. Variation.

10. Genesis, Heredity, and Varia-

tion.

11. Classification.
12. Distnbution.

Part III. — The Evolution of Life.

1. Preliminary.

2. General Aspects of the Special-

Creation Hypothesis.
S. General Aspects of the Evolu-
tion Hypothesis.

4. The Arguments from Classifica-

tion.

5. The Arguments from Embryol-

ogy.

6. The Arguments from Morphol-

ogy.

7. The Arguments from Distribu-

tion.

8. How is Organic Evolution

caused ?

9. External Factors.

10. Internal Factors.

11. Direct Equilibration.

12. Indirect Equilibration.

13. The Cooperation of the Factors.

14. The Convergence of the Evi-

dences.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
Part IV. — Morphological Development.

1. The Problems of Morphology.

2. The Morphological Composition

of Plants.
8. The Morphological Composition
of Plants (continued).

4. The Morphological Composition

of Animals.

5. The Morphological Composition

of Animals (continued).

6. Morphological Differentiation in

Plants.

7. The General Shapes of Plants.

8. The Shapes of Branches.

9. The Shapes of Leaves.

10. The Shapes of Flowers.

11. The Shapes of Vegetal Cells.

12. Changes of Shape otherwise

caused.

13. Morphological Differentiation in

Animals.

14. The General Shapes of Animals.

15. The Shapes of Vertebrate Skele-

tons.

16. The Shapes of Animal Cells.

17. Summary of Morphological De-

velopment.

Part V. — Physiological Development.

1. The Problems of Physiology.

2. Differentiations among the Out-

er and Inner Tissues of Plants.

3. Differentiations among the Out-

er Tissues of Plants.

4. Differentiations among the In-

ner Tissues of Plants.
6. Physiological Integration in
Plants.

6. Differentiations between the

Outer and Inner Tissues of
Animals.

7. Differentiations among the Out-

er Tissues of Animals.

8. Differentiations among the In-

ner Tissues of Animals.

9. Physiological Integration in Ani-

mals.

10. Summary of Physiological Development.

spencer's synthetic philosophy. 3

Part VI. — Laws of Multiplication.

1. The Factors. 8. Antagonism between Expendi-

2. A priori Principle. ture and Genesis.

3. ObversD a pi iori Principle. 9. Coincidence between High Nu-

4. Difficulties of Inductive Verifi- trition and Genesis.

cation. 10. Specialties of these Rela*
8. Antagonism between Growth tions.

and Asexual Genesis. 11. Interpretation and Qualifica-

6. Antagonism between Growth tion.

and Sexual Genesis. 12. Multiplication of the Human

7. Antagonism between Develop- Race.

ment and Genesis, Asexual 13. Human Evolution in the Fu-
and Sexual. ture.

Appendix.

A Criticism on Professor Owen's The- On Circulation and the Formation
ory of the Vertebrate Skeleton. of Wood in Plants.

THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY.

2 vols. $4.00.
CONTENTS OF VOL. 1.
Paet I. — The Data of Pstchologt.

1. The Nervous System. 4. The Conditions essential to Ner-

2. The Structure of the Nervous vous Action.

System. 5. Nervous Stimulation and Ner-

3. The Functions of the Nervous vous Discharge.

System. 6. JSstho-Physiology.

Part II. — The Inductions of Psychology.

1. The Substance of Mind. 6. The Revivability of Relations

2. The Composition of Mind. between Feelings.

3. The Relativity of Feelings. V. The Associability of Feelings.

4. The Relativity of Relations be- 8. The Associability of Relations

twecn Feelings. between Feelings.

5. The Revivability of Feelings. 9. Pleasures and Pains.

Part III. — General Synthesis.
1 Life and Mind as Correspon- 6. The Correspondence as increas-

dence. ing in Specialty.

2, The Correspondence as Direct V. The Correspondence as increas-

and Homogeneous. ing in Generality.

8. The Correspondence as Direct 8. The Correspondence as increas-

but Heterogeneous. ing in Complexity.

4. The Correspondence as extend- 9. The Coordination of Correspon-
ing in Space. dences.

6. The Correspondence as extend- 10. The Integration of Correspon-

ing in Time. dences.

11. The Correspondences in their Totality.

spenceb's synthetic philosophy.

Pabt IV. — Special Synthesis.

1.

The Nature of Intelligence.

5. Instinct.

2.

The Law of Intelligence.

6. Memory.

3.

The Growth of Intelligence.

7. Reason.

4.

Reflex Action.

8. The Feelings.

9.

The Will.

Part V. — Physical Synthesis.

1. A Further Interpretation need-

ed.

2. The Genesis of Nerves.

3. The Genesis of Simple Nervous

Systems.

4. The Genesis of Compound Ner-

vous Systems.

5. The Genesis of Doubly Com-

pound Nervous Systems.

6. Functions as related to these

Structures.

7. Physical Laws as thus inter-

preted.

8. Evidence from Normal Varia-

tions.

9. Evidence from Abnormal Va-

riations.
10. Results.

Appendix.
On the Action of Anaesthetics and Narcotics.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
Part VI. — Special Analysis.

1. Limitation of the Subject.

2. Compound Quantitative Reason-

ing.

3. Compound Quantitative Reason-

ing (continued).

4. Imperfect and Simple Quantita-

tive Reasoning.

5. Quantitative Reasoning in gen-

eral.

6. Perfect Qualitative Reasoning.

7. Imperfect Qualitative Reason-

ing.

8. Reasoning in general.

9. Classification, Naming, and Rec-

ognition.
10. The Perception of Special Ob-
jects.

The Perception of Body as pre-
senting Dynamical, Statico-
Dynamical, and Statical Attri-
butes.

The Perception of Body as pre-
senting Statico-Dynamical and
Statical Attributes.

13.

11

12

The Perception of Body as
presenting Statical Attri-
butes.

The Perception of Space.

The Perception of Time.

16. The Perception of Motion.

17. The Perception of Resist-

ance.

18. Perception in general.

19. The Relations of Similarity and
Dissimilarity.

The Relations of Cointension

and Non-Cointension.
The Relations of Coextension

and Non-Coextension.
22. The Relations of Coexistence

and Non-Coexistence.
The Relations of Connature and

Non-Connature.
The Relations of Likeness and

Unlikeness.
The Relation of Sequence.

26. Consciousness in general.

27. Results.

14.
15.

20

21

23

21

25

SPENCER S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.

Part VII. — General Analysis.

1. The Final Question.

2. The Assumption of Metaphysi-

cians.

3. The Words of Metaphysicians.

4. The Reasonings of Metaphysi-

cians, [ism.

5. Negative Justification of Real-

6. The Argument from Priority.

7. The Argument from Simplicity.

8. The Argument from Distinct-

9. A Criterion wanted. [ness.
10. Propositions qualitatively dis-
tinguished.

11. The Universal Postulate.

12. The Test of Relative Validity.

13. Its Corollaries.

14. Positive Justification of Real-

ism.

15. The Dynamics of Consciousness.

16. Partial Differentiation of Sub-

ject and Object.

17. Completed Differentiation of

Subject and Object.

18. Developed Conception of the

Object.

19. Transfigured Realism.

Part V1TI. — Congruities.

1. Preliminary. 4. Co-ordination of Special Analy-

2. Co-ordination of Data and In- ses.

ductions. 5. Co-ordination of General Analy-

3. Co-ordination of Syntheses. ses.

6. Final Comparison.

Part IX. — Corollaries.

1. Special Psychology. B. Sociality and Sympathy.

2. Classification. 6. Egoistic Sentiments.

3. Development of Conceptions. 7. Ego-Altruistic Sentiments.

4. Language of the Emotions. 8. Altruistic Sentiments.

9. J2sthetic Sentiments.

THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.

Two Vols. $4.00.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.

Part I. — The Data or Sociology.

1. Super-Organic Evolution.

2. The Factors of Social Phenom-

ena.

3. Original External Factors.

4. Original Internal Factors.

6. The Primitive Man — Physical.

6. The Primitive Man — Emotional.

7. The Primitive Man— Intellect-

ual.

8. Primitive Ideas.

9.

The Ideas of the Animate and
the Inanimate.

The Ideas of Sleep and Dreams.

The Ideas of Swoon, Apoplexy,
Catalepsy, Ecstasy, and other
Forms of Insensibility.

The Ideas of Death and Resur-
rection.
1 8. The Ideas of Souls, Ghosts,
Spirits, Demons.

12

spencer's synthetic philosophy.

Part I. — The Data of Sociology. — (Continued.)

14. The Ideas of Another Life.

15. The Ideas of Another World.

16. The Ideas of Supernatural

Agents.

17. Supernatural Agents as causing

Epilepsy and Convulsive Ac-
tions, Delirium and Insanity,
Disease and Death.

18. Inspiration, Divination, Exor-

cism, and Sorcery.

19. Sacred Places, Temples, and

Altars ; Sacrifice, Fasting, and
Propitiation ; Praise, Prayer.

20. Ancestor-Worship in general.

21. Idol- Worship and Fetich- Wor-

ship.

22. Animal-Worship.

23. Plant-Worship.

24. Nature- Worship.

25. Deities.

26. The Primitive Theory of Things.

27. The Scope of Sociology.

Part II. — The Inductions of Sociology.

1. What is a Society?

2. A Society is an Organism.

3. Social Growth.

4. Social Structures.

5. Social Functions.

6. Systems of Organs.

7. The Sustaining System.

8. The Distributing System.

9. The Regulating System.

10. Social Types and Constitutions.

11. Social Metamorphoses.

12. Qualifications and Summary.

Part III. — Domestic Institutions.

1. The Maintenance of Species.

2. The Diverse Interests of the

Species, of the Parents, and
of the Offspring.

3. Primitive Relations of the Sexes.

4. Exogamy and Endogamy.

5. Promiscuity.

6. Polyandry.

7. Polygyny.

8. Monogamy.

9. The Family.

10. The Status of Women.

11. The Status of Children.

12. Domestic Retrospect and Proi-

pect.

CONTEXTS OF VOLUME II.
Part IV. — Ceremonial Institutions.

1 Ceremony in general.

2. Trophies.

3. Mutilations.

4. Presents.

5. Visits.

6. Obeisances.

7. Forms of Address.

8. Titles.

9. Badges and Costumes.

10. Further Class-Distinctions.

11. Fashion.

12. Ceremonial Retrospect and

Prospect

Part V. — Political Institutions.

1. Preliminary.

2. Political Organization in gen-

eral.

3. Political Integration.

4. Political Differentiation.

5. Political Forms and Forces.

SPENCER'S SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY.

Part V.— Political

6. Political Heads — Chiefs,

Kings, etc.

7. Compound Political Heads.

8. Consultative Bodies.

9. Representative Bodies.

10. Ministries.

11. Local Governing Agencies.

12. Military Systems.

Institutions. — {Continued.)

13. Judicial and Executive Systems.

14. Laws.

15. Property.

16. Revenue.

17. The Militant Type of Society.

18. The Industrial Type of Society.

19. Political Retrospect and Pros-

pect.

Part VI. — Ecclesiastical Institutions.

1. The Religious Idea.

2. Medicine-Men and Priests.

3. Priestly Duties of Descendants.

4. Eldest Male Descendants as

Quasi-Priests.

5. The Ruler as Priest.

6. The Rise of a Priesthood.

7. Polytheistic and Monotheistic

Priesthoods.

8. Ecclesiastical Hierarchies.

9. An Ecclesiastical System as a

Social Bond.

10. The Military Functions of

Priests.

11. The Civil Functions of Priests.

12. Church and State.

13. Non-conformity.

14. The Moral Influences of Priest-

hoods.

15. Ecclesiastical Retrospect and

Prospect.

16. Religious Retrospect and Pros-

pect.

Part VII. — Professional Institctions. In preparation.
Part VIII. — Industrial Institutions. In preparation.

THE PRINCIPLES OF ETHICS.

2 vols. $4.00.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.

Part I. — The Data of Ethics.

1. Conduct in general.

2. The Evolution of Conduct

3. Good and Bad Conduct.

4. Ways of judging Conduct.

5. The" Physical View.

6. The Biological View.

7. The Psychological View.

8. The Sociological View.

9. Criticisms and Explanations

10.

The Relativity of Pains and

Pleasures.
Egoism versus Altruism.
Altruism versus Egoism.
Trial and Compromise.
Conciliation.
Absolute Ethics and Relative

Ethics.
The Scope of Ethics.

Appendix to Part I. — The Conciliation.

11.
12.
13.
14.
15.

16.

spencer's synthetic philosophy.

Part II. — The Inductions op Ethic&

1. The Confusion of Ethical Thought.

2. What Ideas and Sentiments are

3. Aggression. [Ethical.

4. RoBbery.

5. Revenge.

6. Justice.

7. Generosity.

8. Humanity.

9. Veracity.

10. Obedience.

11. Industry.

12. Temperance.

13. Chastity.

14. Summary of Inductions.

Pabt HI. — The Ethics of Individual Life.

1. Introductory.

2. Activity.
8. Rest.

4. Nutrition.

5. Stimulation.

6. Culture.

7. Amusements.

8. Marriage.

9. Parenthood.

10. General Conclusions.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
Part IV. — Thk Ethics of Social Life: Justice.

Animal Ethics.

Sub-Human Justice.

Human Justice.

The Sentiment of Justice.

The Idea of Justice.

The Formula of Justice.

The Authority of this Formula.

Its Corollaries.

The Right to Physical Integrity.

The Rights to Free Motion and
Locomotion.

The Rights to the Uses of Nat-
ural Media.

The Right of Property.

The Right of Incorporeal Prop-
erty.

14. The Rights of Gift and Bequest.

15. The Rights of Free Exchange

and Free Contract.

16. The Right of Free Industry.

17. The Rights of Free Belief and

Worship.

18. The Rights of Free Speech and

Publication.

19. A Retrospect with an Addition.

20. The Rights of Women.

21. The Rights of Children.

22. Political Rights — so called.

23. The Nature of the State.

24. The Constitution of the State.

25. The Duties of the State.

26 to 29. The Limits of State-Duties.

Negative Beneficence.

Part V. — The Ethics of Social Life:

5. Restraints on Displays of Ability.

6. Restraints on Blame.

7. Restraints on Praise.

8. The Ultimate Sanctions.

1. Kinds of Altruism.

2. Restraints on Free Competition.

3. Restraints on Free Contract.

4. Restraints on Undeserved Pay

ments.

Part VI. — The Ethics of Social Life: Positive Beneficence.

Marital Beneficence.
Parental Beneficence.
Filial Beneficence.
Aiding the Sick and the Injured.
Succour to the Ill-Used and the
Endangered.

10.

Pecuniary Aid to Relatives and

Friends.
Relief of the Poor.
Social Beneficence.
Political Beneficence.
Beneficence at Large.

Appehdices. — A. The Kantian Idea of Rights. B. The Land-Question.
C. The Moral Motive. D. Conscience in Animals.

New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.

Herbert Spencer's Descriptive Sociology.
A CYCLOPEDIA OF SOCIAL FACTS;

Representing the Constitution of Every Type and Grade of Human Society, Past
and Present, Stationary and Progressive :

Classified and Tabulated fob East Comparison and Convenient
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Eight Number*, Royal Folio.

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ENGLISH. Compiled and Abstracted by James Colliek.

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MEXICANS, CENTRAL AMERICANS, CHIBCHAS, and PERUVIANS.

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LOWEST RACES, NEGRITO RACES, and MALAYO-POLYNESIAN

RACES. Compiled and Abstracted by Professor Duncan, M. A.

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New Zealanders.

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Races.
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Veddahs.
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Negrito Races. Malayo-Polyne-
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ans, etc. anders. Javans.

New Guinea Peo- Tahitians. Snmatrans.

Fijians. [pie. Tongans. Malagasy.

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ASIATIC RACES.

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Todas.
Khonds.
Gonds.

Kaffirs.

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Congo People.

Coast Negroes.
Inland Negroes.
Dahomans.

Ashantis.

Fulahs.

Abyssinians.

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Bhils.
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KfeflM

Bodo and Dhl-

mals.
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Kirghiz.

Kalmucks.

Ostyake.

Kamtschadales.

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AMERICAN RACES. Compiled and Abstracted by Professor Duncan, M. A.

TJaupte.

Abipones.

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Chfnooks. Chippewas. Gniana Tribes.

Snakes. Dakotaa. Caribs.

Comanches. Mandans. Brazilians.
Iroquois.

No. VH.-Price, 94.00.

HEBREWS and PHOENICIANS. Compiled and Abstracted by Richard
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FRENCH. Compiled and Abstracted by James Colliek.

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NEW EDITION OF PROF. HUXLEY'S ESSAYS.

COLLECTED ESSA VS. By Thomas H. Huxley.
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Vol. VI.— HUME.

Vol. VII.— MAN'S PLACE IN NATURE.

Vol. VIII.— DISCOURSES, BIOLOGICAL AND GEOLOGICAL.

Vol. IX.— EVOLUTION AND ETHICS, AND OTHER ESSAYS.

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